


Baby, You're Perfect

by If I Could Fly_ (ifIcouldfly_hs)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Affairs, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No One Direction, Anal Sex, Based on a One Direction Song, Blow Jobs, Chaptered, Choices, Clubbing, Coming Out, Confused Louis, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Fame, Famous Louis, Hook-Up, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Love Triangles, M/M, Model Zayn, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, Rimming, Self-Acceptance, Self-Denial, Self-Discovery, Sexual Content, Sexual Orientation, Student Harry, Tequila, True Love, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2018-12-19 19:22:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 82,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11904543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifIcouldfly_hs/pseuds/If%20I%20Could%20Fly_
Summary: Louis Tomlinson is a famous singer/songwriter and about to marry long-time girlfriend Eleanor Calder.Harry Styles is a university student who just got dumped by his boyfriend.When Louis and his friends go to a nightclub for his bachelor party, he isn't exactly expecting to meet a green-eyed flirt in the loo, and he DEFINITELY isn't expecting to find himself flirting back.An alternate universe where Louis starts to question his sexuality a week before his wedding, Harry is smitten over Louis, and Ziam is real.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Baby, You're Perfect [TŁUMACZENIE PL]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12373188) by [dialectic_chaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dialectic_chaos/pseuds/dialectic_chaos)



> So, this is my very first attempt at a Larry fic, so I hope it's okay! I'm always up for some feedback and suggestions and would love to hear from you guys!
> 
> ___________________________________________________________________________________________________
> 
> I just want to express my greatest amount of gratitude to you, dialectic_chaos. Thank you, thank you, thank you! The fact that someone found this story worthy of being translated means the absolute world to me!

“We’re never going to get into that place,” Harry was sprawled across his bed, trying for the millionth time (and failing) to convince his flatmates that they should stay in instead of going to the newest (and supposedly hottest) clubs in London.

“Stop being such a cunt and get dressed,” Niall was already three pints in, his cheeks rosy and his voice loud. “Wear one of those stupid see through tops you’re always wearing around. I’m sure you’ll pull some nice-looking bloke.”

Harry rolled his eyes at his best friend. He knew he was being difficult, he _knew_ he was being a Debbie downer, but that didn’t make him want to change his mind. He wanted to stay in and eat a whole container of chocolate ice cream and watch _The Notebook_. He wanted to watch Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams fall in love and binge on calories until he forgot that stupid asshole’s name. He wanted to forget that he’d just been dumped twenty-four hours ago by the guy he _thought_ he’d been falling in love with. He wanted all of these things, which meant that the very last thing he wanted was to go out to some stupid dance club and get drunk.

“You need to forget about Oliver,” Liam sank down on the bed beside Harry, his arm wrapping around him in his typical comforting way. “You need to go out and have some fun, mate. He’s not even worth a second thought.”

“But I really liked him Li,” Harry couldn’t help but cringe at the way his voice came out in a whine. His friends were right. He needed to stop being such a walking cliché. He needed to get his ass off his bed, go out and drown his sorrows and dance until he forgot Oliver’s name. Liam and Niall were right – the fleeting three months he had spent calling Oliver ( _Oliver who?)_ his boyfriend wasn’t nearly enough to allow himself to sink into some sort of post-breakup depression. It didn’t matter if Oliver had the most perfect blue eyes that made Harry’s heart melt every time he looked into them. He’d find a new set of blue eyes. He’d find someone else to melt his heart.

He was always falling way too easily anyways, at least that’s what Liam always told him.

“Fine,” he finally caved, moving his long legs off the bed and towards his closet. He pulled out his favourite pair of skin tight, black skinny jeans and a sheer black shirt that was patterned with sparse roses. Niall was right, he could definitely pull some hottie who could help him forget Oliver’s name. Maybe that was exactly what he needed. A little bit of rebound sex never hurt anyone, or so he’d heard.

 

*           *            *

 

“Don’t get too wild tonight,” Eleanor had basically given Louis the same lecture a million times since the second he’d woken up that morning. She’d gone on and on ( _and on_ ) about how he needed to behave himself, and then even more on and on about how there were to be absolutely no strippers involved in his bachelor party. He could basically recite her entire lecture word for word if he wanted to. _You don’t need to get so drunk that you’re sick tomorrow. My parents are coming over for dinner and I don’t want them to think you’re some sort of alcoholic. You don’t need strippers at a bachelor party, Louis. You shouldn’t need to see another girl’s naked body when you’re marrying me in a week._ Blah, blah blah. She certainly knew how to take all the fun out of his last night out as a single man. She knew how to take the fun out of everything.

“Don’t worry, El, we’ll take good care of your boy, yeah?” Zayn’s voice called out from where he was waiting at the front door. He’d tried to free Louis from Eleanor’s lecture a million times already, but the woman just wouldn’t let him go.

“I love you,” Eleanor cooed as she wrapped her arms around Louis’ neck. He tried his best not to cringe, not to back away. He would have been drunk by now if it wasn’t for his fiancé’s obsession with pretending to be his mother. “Don’t let too many girls fall all over you, and text me so I know you’re okay.”

“Yes, _mother,_ ” he said it with a smile on his face, but that didn’t stop Eleanor from rolling her eyes and kissing his mouth one last time before finally letting him go.

The door to the limo was barely even closed before Louis was letting out a sigh of relief and reaching for one of the bottles of champagne. He needed to be drunk – he needed to be so drunk that he forgot just why he was out celebrating. He needed to forget about the fact that he was getting married in only a week, and he definitely needed to forget that he wasn’t even entirely sure if marrying Eleanor was what he wanted for his life. He just needed to _forget_.

“I’m honestly surprised she even let you out,” Zayn’s voice brought Louis back to reality. “I thought she was going to like wrap herself around your leg and insist you stay home.”

Louis laughed lightly as he swallowed the contents of his glass in one mouthful and held his glass out for Zayn to fill it once more. “For the love of god, can we please not talk about her for the rest of the night?”

Zayn flung an arm around Louis’ shoulders in a sign of comfort. Zayn was the only person who really knew how Louis felt about his upcoming nuptials, and he was trying his best at playing the supportive best friend role. “You got it, mate. Let’s go pick up the other guys and get so fucking drunk that all of the papers have you tossing your cookies on their front covers tomorrow morning.”

Oh, right. For a minute, Louis had almost felt normal – he’d almost forgotten that he was this famous singer/songwriter that seemed to be the center of all tabloid gossip these days. He’d almost forgotten that _OK! Magazine_ was covering the details of his wedding, that a matter of only a few days after he said “I do”, that the pictures of his wedding would be showcased in an exclusive edition for the rest of the world to see. Of course, it hadn’t been his idea. Eleanor had insisted that all of Louis’ fans would want to feel as though they’d been at the wedding themselves, and that he owed it to them to release the intimate details of his life. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but wonder if Eleanor was simply in it for the fame and money or if she really, truly did love him. They’d been together for a long time, it felt like _forever_ , and she’d been there for it all – before he’d ever even been discovered. But it had been eight years, and Louis was twenty-six and famous, but he didn’t know if he was entirely happy.

But who was really that happy, anyways?

 

*       *        *

 

Harry had been right of course, and the bouncer at the “newest and hottest” club in London had decided that Harry, Liam and Niall did indeed _not_ belong inside of the establishment.

“We’re at capacity, lads. Try Rebel across the street,” Muscle Man declared, his arms crossed in front of his chest, veins bulging from too much steroid use.

Niall gasped as Muscle Man let a group of rowdy, and really fucking drunk, girls through the entrance. He hadn’t even bothered to check their IDs. “C’mon, mate, you’re obviously not at capacity.”

“We’re at capacity,” Muscle Man repeated, not even bothering to look at them as he let in another group of girls. “We make a special exception for the ladies, of course.”

“This one here is practically a lady himself,” Liam was pushing Harry forward, which was exactly not what Harry wanted. “He just got dumped from this fucking arsehole and he needs to dance his sorrows away. Please?”

Muscle Man did a quick once over of Harry, his chocolate curls resting on his shoulders and his sheer button-up leaving his torso of tattoos on full display. Harry didn’t know what to do, he absolutely hated the club scene 99.9% of the time, but he _needed_ to party. He _needed_ to find some random guy to make him forget about Oliver. He quickly scanned the bouncer. If Harry’s gaydar was functioning properly tonight, then he’d bet the entire balance of his bank account (it should be known that there was only 40 pounds left) that Muscle Man had at least dabbled with the same sex at some point in his life. Before he knew it, Harry was turning his lips up into a smile that he knew would make his dimples as pronounced as ever.

“I really like your tattoo,” he kept his eyes locked with Muscle Man’s, but let his finger trace over the rather generic (and ugly) armband that encircled his unnaturally large bicep. This guy was basically the very opposite of Harry’s type. “I’m a big fan of guys with ink.”

Harry was thankful that Niall was able to hold back his snicker when Muscle Man’s face turned a deep shade of pink at his advances. He didn’t get quite so lucky when Niall yelped with excitement when the bouncer finally stepped aside and let them through the door of the club, yelling at the woman at the next door that they were friends of his and didn’t need to pay cover.

“Dude, I think that guy would have gotten on his knees right there for ya,” Niall slapped Harry on the back as they made their way into the club, the music already pounding into Harry’s eardrums. “I bet you could score like at least five blowjobs tonight if you tried hard enough.”

“Don’t be so gross, Niall,” Liam chimed in. “Harry just needs to find one, suitable guy to meet his rebounding needs. Right, Haz?”

Harry nodded in agreement as he scanned the club. It was big, it was loud, and it was full of potential. “I need a drink.”

“I’ll go get us a round of the strongest stuff they’ve got,” Niall offered. “You two are on guy patrol. Uh, also girl patrol, because I need to find me a lady.”

Harry put a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “I thought tonight was going to be all about me!”

“Don’t worry cupcake, I won’t pull until we’ve found you a nice guy who will make you see stars. Or rainbows, I guess,” Niall joked before he ran off towards the bar.

Just as Niall disappeared in the crowd, there was a commotion at the entrance of the club that drew Harry and Liam’s attention. Girls started swarming in flocks as a group of guys made their way through the doors and towards the VIP section. Harry couldn’t ignore the way his jaw fell open as he took in the first two members of the supposedly special group. One of them was Zayn Malik, the up and coming model that had been flooding the covers of fashion magazines for months. He looked even better in person, if that was even possible. But it was the second guy who really caught his attention. He’d just had a wank to his music video that very morning. _Well, isn’t this fucking awkward._

“What the hell is Louis Tomlinson doing here?” Harry turned to Liam and chose to ignore the blush that was creeping up from his neck.

 

*           *          *

 

Of course there were a million girls crowding Louis. _Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration_. But either way he felt claustrophobic. He loved his fans, he really _really_ did, but he hated the fact that he couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded by people wanting pictures and autographs. All Louis wanted was to be normal, to _feel_ normal, but he’d given up that chance when he’d entered the world of fame and money.

He let out a sigh of relief once they made it to the VIP section and were finally away from the grabby hands and loud voices. Louis couldn’t help but feel like everyone he met _wanted_ something from him. If it wasn’t a picture or an autograph, it was a chance to have his producers listen to their demo, or they wanted him to listen to a song they’d written. No one ever just wanted to get to know him, and it felt like no one really liked him for him either. Except for Zayn. Zayn didn’t need Louis’ fame or money, he had plenty of that on his own. Sometimes Zayn felt like the only person in the world who was genuine. In fact, apart from Louis’ mum and sisters, Zayn _was_ the only genuine person in his life. He drowned the image of Eleanor and her incessant need or money with the shot of tequila that Zayn passed his way. The last thing he wanted – hell the last thing he _needed_ – was to think about his fiancée and the way she seemed to only want him for his name.

“Slow down, killer,” Zayn laughed as Louis shot back a second glass of tequila. “We have all night to get shitfaced.”

“Need to be there now,” Louis said as he poured himself another shot of tequila.

“Is this a sign of pre-wedding jitters?” Daniel, one of Louis’ “friends” asked as he watched Louis swallow his third shot.

Louis ran his fingers through his fringe, pushing it back off his forehead. “O'course not, I love El,” why did the words leave a sour taste in his mouth? “Couldn’t be looking forward to next weekend any more than I already am.” Yup, the words did not sit right at all.

Zayn watched Louis down another shot with worry in his eyes. He could read Louis better than anyone else, and he could tell that his best friend wasn’t nearly as happy as he was pretending to be. He’d met Louis at the brink of both of their careers, and he’d seemed so much happier back then – he’d seemed so much more in love back then too. Fame and money had changed Louis, but it had changed Eleanor way more. Louis had just become more reclusive, more tentative with who he spent his time with, but Eleanor was now consumed by it all. She needed the best and the most expensive. She never settled for anything unless it cost a fortune – _Louis’ fortune_. He’d watched his best mate’s girlfriend (and now soon to be wife) become the type of woman that they both hated. Zayn had tried to talk Louis into making Eleanor sign a pre-nup, but he’d refused. Louis was too nice, and Zayn was worried that it was going to come back to haunt him. He was worried that Eleanor was only in it for the money, that she was too far gone and wasn’t the girl Louis had known before all the fame and money. But he also knew that he had to support Louis, and telling your best mate that you think their fiancée is a gold digger isn’t exactly the best way to show your support.

“Where are you going?” Zayn shook himself from his thoughts as Louis got up from his spot at the booth.

Louis pointed to the bottle of tequila. “I just drank like a bottle of champagne in the limo and four shots of tequila. I need the loo.”

“Probably should bring someone with you, yeah? You might get harassed by some handsy girls on the way.”

Louis shrugged. To be honest, he was so _fucking tired_ of needing to bring security with him everywhere he went. He just wanted to take a piss without having someone standing behind him. “I’ll be fine, Z. Besides, it’s my bachelor party, right? I need to get groped at least once.”

He managed to make it to the bathroom in under fifteen minutes. He’d been stopped countless times for selfies and autographs, and had even had his bum pinched by some overly zealous woman who looked to be in her fifties. It was all in good fun though, she’d slid her number into his back pocket and he promised to call her if his upcoming marriage didn’t work out.

The bathroom was relatively empty when Louis entered it. There was one guy drying his hands and another just starting to unzip his insanely tight jeans at the urinal. _Wait, did Louis just notice how tight another lad’s jeans were?_ He took a second to shake himself out of his thoughts (and also take in the realization that this very same guy was also wearing a rather see through shirt that was spotted with roses). Well, whoever the hell this guy was deserved an award for being 100% confident in absolutely anything. Louis stepped up to the urinal that was beside Mr. Fashion, internally groaning at the fact that a bathroom at a fancy club only had two urinals. It was never good toilet etiquette to whip your dick out directly beside another guy, but alas, that’s what he had to do. He hadn’t realized just how drunk he was until he had to put his palm on the wall to steady himself as he swayed on his two feet.

“You alright, mate?” the question could only be coming from one person, since the guy drying his hands had already left the bathroom. Louis turned his attention to Mr. Fashion himself, and he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the colour of this guy’s eyes that made his head spin. _What the fuck was even happening?_

 

*           *          *

 

“You alright, mate?” Harry turned to the guy beside him, who was clearly having trouble standing upright at this point. His jaw fell open for the second time that night, and for the exact same reason. Louis Tomlinson, the guy who Harry had just been watching a mere twelve hours ago on his laptop, was standing beside. _And holy fuck, his dick was out and in his hand._

The truth was, Harry wasn’t even remotely close to being a fan of Louis’ music. It was too dancy and far too poppy for his taste, but he was definitely a fan of the guy standing beside him. Louis Tomlinson was fit, there was just no way he could even try to deny that. Harry had watched Louis’ new music video three times that very morning, just so that he could watch the way his mouth sang the words and the way his hands moved around. The song was all about morning sex and not having an ounce of control, and the way Louis’ mouth formed the words had driven Harry over the edge. And now he was standing beside him at the urinals of some fancy club, and it wasn’t awkward at all. Nope, not even in the slightest.

“Yeah, m’good, mate, just really fucking drunk,” Louis responded as he looked away and focused back on the task at hand. Harry had to literally force himself to look away from the way Louis was holding himself. The last thing he wanted was for this guy to think he was some sort of creep who liked to watch other guys take a wee.

Harry shook himself off, and he couldn’t help but notice Louis watching him from the corner of his eye. _Was Louis Tomlinson really checking out his dick? Was that really happening right now?_ Harry zipped his jeans back up and walked over to the sinks, he purposely took the opportunity to wash his hands three times so that he’d still be standing there when Louis finally made his way over.

“You smell like tequila,” Harry didn’t have a filter, which was definitely a problem.

Louis laughed as he lathered the soap on his hands. “Probably taste like it too.”

_Wait, what?_

“You might need someone to confirm that for you,” Harry had clearly lost his mind at this point, but then again, he was fairly certain he hadn’t had one to begin with.

Louis was laughing again, and Harry was certain that it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He was also certain that he was too drunk to be ranking his favourite sounds. “Haven’t really seen anyone out there that seems worthy of having their tongue inside me.” 

Harry raised his eyebrows, raking his memory for any hint that Louis Tomlinson may be somewhat interested in men, but nothing came to mind. As far as Harry knew, he was marrying a girl and perfectly happy, which meant that Louis probably hadn’t meant his last comment to come across the way it had. “I’m Harry, by the way.”

Louis extended his hand to meet Harry’s, and Harry was acutely aware that he was now touching the very same hand that had been touching Louis’ dick only minutes before. _Okay, he really needed to stop_. “I’m Louis, I mean, you may already know that,” Louis was stumbling, which probably had something to do with the tequila he’d consumed, but Harry found it endearing nonetheless.

It was Harry’s turn to laugh. “I already know that, but don’t worry, I’m not a fan or anything.”

Louis’ face broke into a huge smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Noted.”

“I mean, like, you’re good and all, but like, it’s a little too poppy, yeah? I mean, I have to admit, that I like that new song, No Control? It’s really proper hot, yeah?”

Louis was laughing again, and Harry couldn’t quite figure out what exactly he’d said that had been funny. “You talk a lot,” Louis said through a fit of giggles. “You think the song is hot?”

“I cannot confirm or deny the fact that I had a wank to the music video this morning.”

Harry wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but Louis seemed to move closer to him, one of his hands was on the counter, the other hanging by his side. “I cannot confirm or deny the fact that that is the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard a fan say.”

“Not a fan, ‘member?” Harry responded with a wink.”

“Wait, was that an attempt at a wink?” Louis was laughing again. Apparently Harry was the funniest guy on the planet. “That was the worst wink I have ever seen.”

Harry’s lips curled up into a smile, his dimples set deep into his face. “I’m better at other things, if you know what I mean.” Was Harry really standing in the men’s toilet at a club, bantering with Louis Tomlinson – the guy who had basically been a part of his wank bank for quite some time?

 

*           *          *

 

“I’m better at other things, if you know what I mean.”

Louis couldn’t quite figure out if this guy was flirting with him, or if he was just overly friendly. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was drunk off his ass and Harry had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. _What the fuck?_

“You’re clearly not better at dressing yourself,” Louis finally found his voice. “I mean, I can see your nipples through your shirt and the entire outline of your dick in those jeans.”

Harry smiled, and Louis had to wonder why nobody had outlawed those dimples yet. Clearly something so fucking distracting had to be bad for the public’s safety. “Maybe that’s what I was going for,” Harry said with a touch of defensiveness.

“Why would anyone purposely go for that?” The second the question was out of Louis’ mouth he regretted it. He watched as Harry’s perfect smile faltered and Harry took a step back, his arms crossing in front of his chest, almost as if he was trying to hide himself away. “Sorry. My signature sass comes out a little too strong when I’m smashed. I think your outfit is proper risqué.”

Louis didn’t miss the way Harry’s face seemed to light back up, or the way he inched his way closer to Louis. Louis really had no idea what was going on at this point. His head was swimming in the alcohol he’d consumed, and his stomach was doing some sort of weird flip. He was certain he was either about to throw up or reach out and touch Harry’s curls. _Neither of those would be good._

“Is that an apology?” Harry’s hand was gripping the counter, his fingers lightly brushing against Louis’.

Louis was watching their fingers, watching the way Harry’s were dancing against his. This guy was definitely flirting with him. _Right?_ He finally looked away, but when he met Harry’s gaze he almost felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. This guy was fucking _pretty_. Louis had never found another male attractive before, not like this. “It is, yes,” he finally spoke. “And I never apologize, not to anyone.”

Harry moved even closer, his chest almost flush against Louis’. His hand that wasn’t resting on the counter fell to Louis’ waist, holding onto his waist as if he was going to fly away any second. “So, that means I’m special, yeah?”

Louis couldn’t even think straight. His brain was trying to focus on too many things all at once. He was trying to focus on the heat coming from Harry’s finger tips that were digging into his waist. He was trying to focus on how close Harry’s mouth was to his, how if he just moved forward an inch he’d connect with the perfectly shaped, pink mouth that was curled into a smile. He was trying to focus on the fact that he was standing in front of a _guy_. He’d never been in this situation before, he’d never even consciously wanted to be in this situation before, and yet here he was. He’d met some random guy in the toilet and he was pretty sure that random guy was about to close the gap between their bodies and kiss him. And he was pretty sure he wouldn’t stop him. _What the fuck was happening?_

Louis tried to ignore the pang of disappointed that resonated through his body when Harry pulled away. It wasn’t until he looked in the direction of what had grabbed Harry’s attention that he realized someone had interrupted them, and that that someone had been Zayn.

"Uh,” Zayn looked between Harry and Louis, confusion etched across his face. “I was just coming to make sure you hadn’t been mobbed. You’ve been gone a while.”

He had? Time had seemed to have stopped while Louis had been talking to Harry. He’d practically forgotten the fact that he was at his bachelor party and that his friends were waiting for him. He’d almost forgotten that he was famous and that the second he walked out of the bathroom that he’d have a hoard of people begging him to give him whatever they wanted.

“Hi, I’m Harry,” Louis snapped out of his thoughts and watched as Harry introduced himself to Zayn. He waited for Harry to use some sort of line on him, like he had with Louis. When the flirting didn’t start, Louis couldn’t help but smile to himself. _So, Harry wasn’t just like that with everyone._

“Zayn,” Zayn extended his hand to Harry’s, but kept his eyes trained on Louis, as if he was trying to figure out what he’d just walked in on by looking into his best friend’s eyes.

“Listen, Harold,” Louis clapped Harry on the back before making his way towards Zayn. “We’ve got a VIP section and more alcohol than we could ever hope to drink. You should join us.” Louis had tried to make the invitation come out cool and nonchalant, but the way Harry’s face broke into a huge grin made his stomach do backflips.

“A, my name isn’t Harold, it’s just _Harry_ ,” Harry started. “B, I’ve got a couple friends out there that I can’t just abandon, even for a pretty boy like yourself.”

Louis caught Zayn looking between them again, but chose to ignore Harry’s comment. “Invite them with you. I’ll let the bouncers know that _Harold_ and his guests are allowed in our booth and he’ll show you up.”

“Can’t wait,” Harry said, watching as Zayn walked out of the bathroom and held the door open for Louis to follow. “Oh, and Louis?”

Louis turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Harold?”

“You have no right calling my pants tight. Those pants are practically hugging your bum. Not that I’m complaining, you’ve got a fucking nice bum.”

Louis couldn’t stop his face from turning a deep shade of pink, but he played it off and rolled his eyes at the cheeky guy whose dimples were basically heroin. “See you in a bit.”

 

*           *          *

 

 _Okay, so that had just happened._ Harry had just flirted with Louis fucking Tomlinson, and he was fairly certain that Louis hadn’t been totally against it. In fact, Harry had almost fucking _kissed_ him, and Louis hadn’t pulled away. And Louis hadn’t been totally creeped out when Harry had admitted that he’d had a wank to Louis’ video. That had to mean something. Right?

“So, you guys are going to fucking love me,” Harry had made his way back to where Liam and Niall were standing at the bar.

Liam handed him a pint of beer. “It’s probably a tad warm now. I ordered it for you ages ago. Where the hell were you?”

“I was in the toilet. I had to wee.”

“You were gone for like twenty minutes, Haz. You may want to see a doctor,” Niall said as he took a drink from his own beer.

Harry punched Niall in the arm playfully before speaking. “Anyways, back to my story. You’ll never guess whose dick I saw.”

Niall groaned. “Mate, I’m all for you meeting someone new, but I don’t need graphic details.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t like that, you twat. So, anyways, I was taking a wee when this guy came up to the urinal beside me. He was so drunk, and he had to like hold himself up, right? So, I asked him if he was okay, and that’s when I noticed that it was Louis Tomlinson.”

Liam’s eyes widened a bit. “Really? You’d think they’d have a private toilet in the VIP section. That’s weird.”

“Not the point, Li,” Harry continued. “We got to talking and he invited us up to his section. Apparently they’ve got a bunch of free booze and he’s the sharing and caring type.”

“That’s fucking sick, let’s go!” Niall didn’t even wait for them to acknowledge him before he started walking towards the VIP area.

“You’re not going to find your rebound guy up there,” Liam, the forever god of logic, added.

Harry shrugged. He was pretty sure (okay, he was hopeful at best) that he’d already found his rebound guy. “I’d rather get drunk off free liquor.”

They made their way to the roped off VIP section, and Harry couldn’t help but feel a little less than adequate. He wasn’t usually the kind of guy to lose his sense of confidence, but when he’d been alone with Louis in the washroom, he’d practically forgotten that Louis was rich and famous. But now that he was standing in front of a team of security guards, he was forced to recognize the fact that they ran in different crowds. Harry was the uni student who could barely afford rent, and Louis was an internationally famous singer/songwriter. Harry swallowed his insecurities. If anything, he should be looking at this like a challenge. Besides, Louis had seemed more than open to the idea of being flirted with by Harry. So, he’d just be doing Louis a disservice if he stopped now.

“I’m a friend of Louis’,” Harry announced to security. He was hoping that he wouldn’t have to sink to the measures he’d had to at the entrance of the club. The last thing he wanted to do was flirt with another steroid junkie.

The security guard barely even looked Harry over. “Name?”

“Harry and guests. It may be under Harold.”

Niall turned to Harry with a questioning look in his eyes. “Why would it be under Harold?”

Harry couldn’t fight the smile from taking over his face. “It’s just a little insider I have with Louis.”

“You guys have inside jokes already?” Liam questioned. Harry couldn’t deny the fact that it seemed rather odd that he’d already made it to that point with someone he’d met in the toilet. _Oh well, it felt fucking awesome._

“Oi, Nicolas, they’re with me,” Louis appeared behind the security guard, his hand resting on the muscular man’s shoulder. “S’nice to see you again, Harold.”

“Likewise,” Harry’s face was bright, and he knew he must look like a kid who’d just seen a red bicycle sitting under the Christmas tree. But he didn’t care. He _wanted_ Louis to see the effect he had on him. “Now, I seem to remember you promising alcohol.”

The security guard finally stepped aside to let Harry, Liam and Niall walk up the stairs and into the VIP area. Niall let out a low whistle as he looked around and took in his surroundings. “It’s fucking nice up here.”

“S’alright,” Louis agreed as he stuck out his hand awkwardly. Harry wanted to be the one to grab it, but of course that would be mental. Louis was clearly trying to introduce himself to the others. “I’m Louis.”

Niall and Liam took turns introducing themselves before Louis led them to his roped off area. Harry recognized Zayn immediately and watched as he stood up and shook Niall and Liam’s hands. He couldn’t help but notice the way Zayn seemed to linger around Liam, or the way that Zayn was taking his time looking Liam over from head to toe. _Damn, now if only Louis would look at him like that_. He wanted to know if Louis had picked up on the vibe between Zayn and Liam, but when he moved his eyes to Louis he became instantly breathless. Louis had already been looking at him, his blue eyes trained on Harry’s chest. _Now, there was the sign Harry had been waiting for_.

Harry squeezed himself in between Louis and Zayn, because there was no way in hell he was going to spend the rest of his night wishing he was beside Louis. He tried not to die a little when Louis smiled at him.

“Are you a tequila type guy or a vodka type guy?” Louis asked as he held two bottles up in front of Harry.

“I can be any type of guy you want me to be,” Harry’s voice was barely audible, but he could tell that Louis had heard him by the way he seemed to gasp. Harry stared at Louis’ mouth as it fell open for a brief second. _Now, there was a place he could get lost in._

“How about tequila shots all around, yeah?” Zayn grabbed the bottle from Louis’ hand and began to pour shots. “Liam, you like tequila?”

Liam was sat on the other side of Zayn, and Harry didn’t miss the way Liam was staring at Zayn’s face. Zayn _did_ have a wonderful face – all chiseled cheek bones and long eyelashes. It was almost impossible not to stare. “Yeah, tequila’s great,” Liam’s voice came out shaky, almost as if he was nervous – almost as if he was completely in awe of the model sitting beside him.

“So, how do you guys know my man Louis?” the guy who Harry was fairly certain Louis had introduced as Daniel asked from his spot across the table.

Harry watched as Zayn passed around the tequila shots. He waited until they downed them as a group before turning his attention to Daniel. “Just met him in the loo. Get it? I met Lou in the loo?” He couldn’t stop himself from laughing at his own joke.

“Seriously?” Daniel didn’t seem impressed by Harry’s humour, but that didn’t matter because Louis was laughing beside him. “You just met him in the toilet? And he invited you back to our section? Seems kind of weird.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. He definitely didn’t like this Daniel guy. “What’s weird about it? We got to talking while taking a wee. He’s allowed to make friends, isn’t he?”

Daniel took a sip from whatever he was drinking. “Of course. It’s his bachelor party, did he tell you that?”

Harry didn’t get what this guy’s problem was, or maybe he did. He was definitely getting some sort of homophobic vibe. “Yeah, he mentioned it,” of course that was a lie, but Harry didn’t exactly care. He didn’t miss the way Louis seemed to sink into the booth, as if he was embarrassed for being caught maybe flirting with a guy when he was about to marry a woman.

It wasn’t until Louis’ friends, except for Zayn, decided they’d had enough of the night and left the club that Harry felt like he could turn his attention back to Louis. “Those guys are kind of assholes.”

Louis’ eyes seemed to be filled with guilt as he poured them each a glass of scotch. “Yeah, I’m sorry about them.”

As Harry accepted his glass, he let his fingers brush against Louis’. The way that Louis seemed so transfixed on where their finger met made Harry believe that he hadn’t been the only one to feel the electricity. “Daniel seems to be a tad homophobic. Guess he wasn’t a fan of my risqué shirt.”

“I’m always telling Louis that,” Zayn stated as he finally pulled his attention away from Liam. “Every time I say something about my sex life he looks like he wants to punch me in the face. One day I’m just going to snog a guy in front of him just to see how he’ll react.”

Louis laughed and put an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Should’ve tried that tonight, I’m sure Liam would’ve been game. Right, Liam?”

For a second, Harry thought Liam was going to have some sort of aneurism, but he finally met Zayn’s eyes and smiled. “I would’ve definitely participated in that experiment.”

Harry had had enough of the waiting and playing coy. Sure, he was drunk, but he knew for a fact that he’d find Louis just as fit if he was sober. He scooted over in the booth until he was sitting flush beside Louis. He wanted more. _He needed more._ “I wasn’t joking about your ass earlier,” his mouth was against Louis’ ear and he let his hand rest on his thigh. He was sure he felt Louis shudder beneath his touch.

 

*            *          *

 

“I wasn’t joking about your ass earlier.”

Louis was frozen. Harry’s hand was on his thigh and his mouth was against his ear and Louis was fairly certain he’d died and was being given some sort of karmic reward for being such a good person. All jokes aside, Louis was definitely dreaming. There was no way there was this curly-haired, beautiful guy sitting beside him – _touching_ him. Just a few hours ago, Louis would never have even known that this very situation was something that would send him in a tailspin. But he was putty in Harry’s hands, and he wasn’t sure how to become a coherent human being again. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to.

Louis turned so that he was facing Harry, so that he was getting lost in his green eyes and the way that his shirt was unbuttoned to his navel. This guy had absolutely no shame and Louis loved it. “I’m sorry, do you have a fucking butterfly tattooed on your stomach?”

Harry looked down to where Louis’ eyes were trained on his stomach and the butterfly tattoo that visible underneath his shirt. “Yup, it’s lovely, isn’t it?”

“It’s a fucking _butterfly_ ,” Louis’ voice was laced in judgment, but he was also pretty sure it was the most beautiful tattoo he’d ever seen on another human being.

Harry’s hand made its way higher up Louis’ thigh, and Louis was definitely going to faint. “I bet you wouldn’t mind running your tongue over it.”

Okay, Harry’s actions had definitely passed the realm of flirting. Louis hadn’t meant to make Harry believe that he was remotely interested in men, but maybe he had? Maybe he was so royally confused that he had no idea what he was interested in? Maybe the mixture of alcohol, pre-wedding jitters (or downright fear) and the smell of Harry’s vanilla soap had him thinking that maybe he was interested in guys? Or at the very least interested in Harry?

It was official, Louis knew absolutely nothing about everything. He was lost. He was swimming in an endless ocean of doubt and confusion. And Harry’s hand on his thigh was only making it a million times worse.

Niall’s voice interrupted Louis’ internal crisis. “Lads, I think I need to take Liam home.”

Louis hadn’t even noticed that Liam was slumped back in the booth and looking awfully green. Zayn’s arm was around his shoulders and he was trying to sooth his nausea. “Think I’m gonna head out too, Louis. I’ve got a shoot early in the morning.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “You’re disappointments, the lot of you. I’m trying to celebrate my last night out as a single man and you’re bailing at 1 am.”

Harry’s hand squeezed his thigh as the words left Louis’ mouth. “I’m not going anywhere,” Harry’s statement came out as a promise, and it made Louis smile.

The second the others were gone, Harry shot back another glass of tequila and turned to Louis. “So, when’s the big day?”

Obviously this was bound to come up, obviously the guy who had been relentlessly flirting with Louis all night would want to know more about his upcoming wedding. _Obviously._ “Next Saturday.”

Harry pursed his lips for a moment before pasting a smile onto his face. “So, a week from today?”

Louis nodded his head. “Yup, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you...with someone?”

Harry shook his head before running a hand through his curls. “Unattached.”

Louis watched him in awe. He’d never met someone like Harry – someone so carefree, forward and honest. He’d only known Harry for a few hours, but it was so obvious that he lived life in the moment, that he didn’t waste his time feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. Louis envied that quality. He’d spent his entire life trying to fit in, trying to be the person everyone else wanted him to be. With Harry sitting by his side with his hand on his thigh, Louis was quickly realising that he had absolutely no idea who he really was or what he really wanted out of life. He was drunk and lost and the two of were never a good combination.

“We should take one last shot to celebrate the last week of your freedom,” Harry announced as he poured tequila into their shot glasses.

Louis knocked his glass against Harry’s and gulped the shot down. He kept his eyes on Harry, mesmerized by the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he drank the alcohol, the way his lips were just a touch pinker than they’d been a minute ago. Louis threw all caution to the wind and snuck his hand underneath the table and discreetly on Harry’s thigh. He’d done this before. Before Eleanor had been in the picture, he’d picked up his fair share of women, but this was different. _This was so very different._ This felt weighted with significance.

“Louis,” Harry’s voice was low and husky, and made the alcohol that was coursing through Louis’ veins run that much hotter. “What are you doing?”

Louis met Harry’s gaze, and he let a mischievous smirk play at his mouth. “I honestly haven’t a clue,” he admitted as he moved his hand up higher, blinking ever so slightly as he quickly ran his fingers over Harry’s length. Louis couldn’t ignore the fact that it was half-hard under the denim material. _What the fuck was happening?_

“You’re killing me, Lou,” Harry’s voice was a mere whisper as he moved his fingers up higher on Louis. He needed to feel him, he needed to know if he was even remotely effected by all of this. He let out a low growl when his fingers finally connected with Louis’ length. He was rock hard. “Holy fuck, I want to actually feel you, like without the pants.”

Louis couldn’t stop himself from rolling his hips forward into Harry’s palm. He literally had no idea what was happening any more. He was so far gone. Just a few hours ago he’d been certain he was straight. He was certain that he was supposed to be with women. But now he didn’t know anything. He was sitting beside the prettiest guy he’d ever met, a guy who was palming him over his jeans, and all he wanted was to let Harry do whatever the hell he wanted to do to him. He wanted Harry to touch him, to taste him, to take him. Again, _what the actual fuck was going on?_

“Can we get out of here, please?” Harry was begging, he was basically whining, and it was only making Louis’ harder. If that was even possible.

Louis rolled his hips forward one more time, a pant escaping from his lips before he opened his eyes and met Harry’s needy emerald irises. “I have a limo out back,” he finally said. “Just give me a second to, uh, calm down.”

Harry laughed but didn’t take his hand off of Louis’ dick. “No way, love,” he growled into Louis’ ear. “I want you just like this. Just carry your jacket in front of you.”

Louis didn't say anything, he just gathered up his jacket in front of his bulge and stood up from the booth. He gasped slightly when Harry took the opportunity to discreetly tap his bum with the palm of his hand. _Well, wasn't this guy fucking cheeky_. He led Harry towards the exit of the VIP section, clutching the jacket to his body as he asked the security team to lead them to the limo. He silently prayed that the jacket wouldn't slip, that he wouldn't let it go in his drunken state. The very last thing he needed was to be photographed leaving the club with a full, raging boner with Harry close behind. _Now, that would be a fucking story._

The limo was waiting for the them, door open and engine running. Louis slid in first, exhaling when he was finally able to drop the jacket from his waist. Harry was beside him in seconds, closing the door behind him as he settled into the leather seat. At least he had the decency to wait for the driver to address Louis before he tried to touch him again.

"Where to, Mr. Tomlinson?" The driver asked.

Louis looked to Harry for help. He had no idea what he was doing. He had no idea about anything at all.

Harry smirked and turned his attention to the driver. "Just drive around, please. We'll let you know when Mr. Tomlinson is ready to go home. 

The driver nodded his head in acknowledgment and pressed the button to raise the divider, granting Harry and Louis all the privacy they needed.

"You seem kind of nervous," Harry stated as he observed Louis closely. Louis was sure that he must look a proper mess. He felt sweaty and his heart was racing and he had no idea what was going on.

"Just never done this before," he said as he met Harry's gaze. Harry was practically a complete stranger, but the second Louis met his green eyes he felt calmer, so much more relaxed. That wasn't normal, right?

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Haven't done what? Left the club with someone you just met? Cheated on your fiancée? Been with a guy?"

Louis couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. Okay, so Harry got it. He understood all of the chaos that was currently swarming around in Louis' head. "2 and 3."

"Is it a problem," Harry started slowly as he turned to face Louis, his hand playing with the collar of Louis' shirt. "That I'm a guy?"

It only took a second for Louis to figure out the answer to Harry's question, and he shook his head. "Just means I have no idea what I'm doing here. I'm used to being the suave one, but you're going to have to take the reins for me."

Harry smiled widely at Louis' response, his dimples were so perfect that Louis decided he could spend the rest of the night staring at them. "I don't mind taking the reins one bit, Mr. Tomlinson," Harry said as he moved his hand to the back of Louis' neck, cupping it so that he could tilt Louis' head and gain better access to his sensitive skin. "You're just going to have to tell me if it gets to be too much, alright?"

Louis nodded his head and that was the only response Harry needed. His lips were on Louis' neck in a second, his teeth lightly grazing his skin and his tongue leaving a wet path. Louis prayed internally that Harry wouldn't leave a mark. The last thing he needed was to have to explain to Eleanor why and how he got a bunch of love bites at his bachelor party. 

As if he could read Louis' mind, Harry pulled his mouth away. "Don't worry, I'll be careful. She'll never know."

Louis was staring at Harry's mouth, at his perfectly pink and plush lips. He needed them. He wasn't sure if it was the copious amount of tequila he'd consumed or just Harry's presence alone, but he'd never needed someone's mouth as badly as he did right now. "Just fucking kiss me, Harold."

Harry's eyes flickered for a moment before his lips crashed down on Louis'. Louis's mind went blank the second Harry's lips were on his own. Every single hesitation was gone. It was as if he knew one hundred percent that this was exactly where he was supposed to be. It took him a moment to react, a mere second before he remembered that he was supposed to be moving his lips against Harry's. A shiver ran down his spine when Harry's tongue swiped along his bottom lip, and Louis didn't even have to think about it - he parted his lips to let Harry's tongue move against his own. It had been a long time since a kiss alone had made Louis moan, but sounds were escaping from the back of his throat that he'd never heard before. _Now this was a fucking kiss._

Harry was the one to pull away first, and only so he could catch his breath. Louis was staring at Harry's mouth. His lips were basically red now, and _he_ had done that. _Wow_.

"Thought you didn't find anyone in the club worthy of having their tongue inside you," Harry's voice broke the silence, and Louis decided right then and there that he wanted to drown in it. It was brilliant. 

Louis didn't even laugh at Harry's joke - he was far too gone, far too mesmerized in Harry's lips and tongue. He moved his hands into Harry's hair. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about tugging on his curls since the second he'd met him. "I have no idea what I'm doing," Louis whispered more to himself than anything. 

Harry cocked his head to the side slightly, burning into Louis' eyes with his own. "Do you want to stop?"

"Fuck no," Louis growled as he tugged on Harrys curls. The groan that came from Harry made Louis' pants even tighter than they'd already been.

Louis was the one to lean forward, the one to initiate the kiss. He covered Harry's mouth with his own, not even waiting for Harry to properly respond before he was pushing his tongue past his lips. Harry tasted like a mixture of tequila and spearmint gum and it was _fucking magical_. Louis finally gained the courage to put his hands on Harry's body. He ran his hands down his back and under his shirt, reveling in the feel of Harry's obviously toned muscles under his fingertips. He ran his nails down Harry's skin, and the shudder he felt come from Harry made him whine. 

While Louis' hands moved to explore Harry's chest, Harry was palming Louis over his jeans. He obviously hadn't lost the desire to touch him without the clothes, because the next thing Louis knew, Harry was working on his belt. 

"I'm going to take these off of you, okay?" Harry broke from Louis' lips to ask the question. 

Louis' head started to spin again, the chaos taking over as he realized just what was about to happen. Actually, he really had no idea what was about to happen. All he knew was that he was in a limo with a beautiful guy who wanted to take off his clothes and touch him, and Louis didn't want to say no - that was the scariest part of all. 

Louis nodded his head again. _Damn, he wished he could remember how to talk_. He watched in awe as Harry undid his button with ease, gingerly unzipping Louis' jeans and pulling them down to his knees. Louis was rock hard under his boxer briefs, and the way Harry licked his lips as he took in the sight made Louis' dick twitch. For the millionth time, _what the fuck was happening?_

Harry didn’t waste a second. His hand was palming Louis again, his fingers working their way into the opening of Louis’ underwear. Louis couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, and he was pretty sure his eardrums were going to explode by how loud his ears were ringing. The second Harry’s fingers met the skin of Louis’ dick, it felt like the whole world had been tilted off its axis. Everything felt so off kilter, and yet so fundamentally _perfect_. He’d never known that being touched by someone could feel like this – could feel so breathtaking and awe inspiring. Harry’s fingers were literally magic and his brain just couldn’t keep up.

When Harry moved to pull down Louis’ boxer briefs, Louis didn’t even hesitate; he lifted his bum off the leather seat of the limo to make things easier for Harry. The air con in the limo bit at Louis’ skin, but it didn’t matter how much cold air was blowing on him, his body still felt like it was going to burst into flames at any moment. He’d never felt so alive.

“You have to tell me to stop if it’s too much,” Harry was gazing into Louis’ eyes again, his contact so intense that Louis could feel his stomach swarm.

Louis nodded his head and gasped when Harry’s hand wrapped around his length. He hadn’t noticed just how _big_ Harry’s hands were, not until this very moment, not until his cock was engulfed in his perfect fingers. He tried to focus as Harry pumped him, tried to watch the way Harry touched him, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling back or his head from falling backwards on the headrest of the seat. It was too much and not enough all at once. Louis was fairly certain he’d never had someone touch him like Harry was right now, that he’d never had someone know exactly how to make him lose his mind.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Harry’s voice broke through Louis’ thoughts, bringing his attention back to reality. Louis opened his eyes to find Harry watching him carefully, his green eyes completely hooded with lust. “Let me taste you?”

Louis couldn't help the gasp of breath that escaped his mouth as he processed Harry's request. "I, uh..." he knew what he wanted but he couldn't get his thoughts straight. His brain was clearly not working right now.

Harry pulled back slightly, but his grip around Louis' cock didn't lessen. "I don't want to if you're unsure."

Louis was frustrated with himself. He knew what he wanted but he couldn't form the words. His brain was waving a red flag, telling him this wasn't right, that it wasn't okay. All he could do was close his eyes and beg his brain to just shut the hell up. As he was silently pleading with himself, Harry moved his hands to either side of Louis' face, pulling him forward until their mouths collided. Louis' mind went black at the contact and he gave into the Harry's tongue was exploring his mouth.

They kissed for what felt like eternity, until their lips felt chapped and they were out of breath. Louis panted against Harry's mouth and finally found the courage to ask for what he wanted. "Need your mouth," he breathed. When Harry backed up and searched Louis' eyes for more, Louis kissed him quickly. "Need your lips wrapped around me. Now."

"Well, aren't you bossy," Harry snickered as he slid down the seat until he was kneeling in front of Louis, his hands gripping his thighs.

Louis didn’t even have a chance to counter Harry’s words before Harry’s tongue was licking a stripe on the underside of his length. Louis couldn’t take his eyes off of Harry, who was on his knees for him, his lips wrapping around his cock and his eyes locked on Louis’. It was the most amazing thing Louis had ever witnessed – the most _fucking sexual_ thing he’d ever experienced. The way Harry watched for his reaction, the way he hummed as he took Louis to the back of his throat – everything Harry was doing was so perfect. Louis wanted to savor the moment, he wanted it to last for forever, but Harry’s mouth was perfection and he was too far gone. Louis came with a cry, his fingers intertwined in Harry’s hair. He was fairly certain he’d never had such an intense orgasm, and he was positive that it was all because of the green-eyed boy kneeling in front of him.

“Gotta say,” Harry started as he moved back up Louis’ body until he was straddling his thighs. “I’m really happy we shared that wee in the toilet tonight.”

Louis was laughing as Harry’s mouth moved to cover his own, and he moaned as he tasted himself on his tongue. He was basking in the afterglow, his heart still racing from what Harry had just done to him, but he couldn’t help but fear that when the alcohol and magic of the night washed away that he’d be left feeling numb and scared. _What the fuck just happened?_


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the feedback so far! It means everything! I love hearing what you guys think about it or what you'd like to see happen!

Harry woke up with a pounding headache – a friendly reminder of the amount of alcohol he’d consumed the night before. A friendly reminder of the fact that he’d given Louis Tomlinson, the UK’s best and brightest singer/songwriter, a blowjob on the night of his bachelor party. Harry had literally wooed a man in the toilet of a nightclub (an apparently straight guy at that) and had managed to do unspeakable things to him in the back of a limo. Harry was quite proud of himself, but he’d be even prouder if he was waking up with Louis beside him in his bed.

One could only wish.

The night out was supposed to give Harry the chance to pick up a stranger and to forget about the fact that his heart had just been broken. Sure, he had managed to pick up a stranger, but he was left feeling unsatisfied. When Louis’ limo had dropped him off outside of his flat, he’d wanted nothing more than to invite Louis up with him – but he’d known better. He knew that Louis would say no, that it would be so much more out of his comfort zone than anything else that had transpired that night. Louis had been quiet after Harry had made him come, and Harry could tell that he was lost in his head. He couldn’t even begin to understand just how confusing it all must have been for Louis, for someone who had never even done something with a guy before. The whole concept of Harry being the first boy to ever lay his lips on Louis only made the whole thing that much better, and as he lay in his bed thinking about that little fact, Harry couldn’t help the bulge that was forming in his boxers.

It wasn’t like Harry could just pick up his phone and text Louis, or send him a Facebook request or anything as obscene as that – Louis was fucking _famous_ after all, so Harry did the next best thing. He picked up his cellphone from its place on his nightstand and googled Louis’ name. He was immediately welcomed by pictures of Louis and a woman with long, brown hair. He clicked the first link that appeared and was hit by the realization that said woman was Eleanor, Louis’ soon to be wife. Harry tried to fight back the bile that was rising. He’d never done something so callous before, something so intentionally mean. He’d known that Louis had someone, he’d known that the guy was getting married for crying out loud, and yet he’d kissed him anyways (he’d done so much more than just that). He was a fucking homewrecker. Well, maybe he couldn’t give himself that much credit. It wasn’t like Louis was going to call off the wedding just because he’d met some kid at a club who’d gotten down on his knees for him.

_What the fuck had Harry even been thinking?_

As Harry clicked through pictures, he decided that Eleanor looked nice enough. They made a good-looking couple, which only made Harry that much more nauseous. Whatever had happened between him and Louis was purely physical. _Right_? It had been nothing more than a snog and some sex, _not even sex._ Harry had needed a rebound and Louis had needed a release. They’d just given each other what they’d needed and walked away. It was nothing more. But why was Harry’s chest aching from the pictures he was looking at? Why did he have the burning desire, the burning _need_ , to see Louis again?

When Harry finally managed to pull himself out of bed and into the kitchen, Liam and Niall were already awake and sitting around the table, cups of teas in front of them. Harry was slightly comforted by the fact that Liam looked about as rough as he felt. Niall, on the other hand, was chipper like always – alcohol never had any effect on him. Harry was convinced that Niall’s liver was made out of steel.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Niall drawled from his place at the table. “Heard you come home last night, at four o’clock in the fucking morning might I add.”

Harry tried to ignore the way Niall was wiggling his eyebrows as he poured himself a cup of tea and put a slice of bread in the toaster. He needed carbs, _now_. “Some of us here know how to party,” he finally said, referencing the fact that Niall and Liam had left far too early in the night.

“Not all of us had a special someone to keep us busy,” Niall countered.

“Liam did,” Harry wasn’t about to talk about Louis. Louis deserved better than that – he deserved privacy.

Liam tried to look indifferent, but the smile that was threatening to light up his face finally won the battle. “May have scored myself a certain model’s number. Oh, which reminds me, I need the flat tonight.”

“You’re kicking us out of our own flat?” Niall feigned petulance.

“I have a date,” Liam explained. “And I’d rather you two idiots not ruin it, thank you very much.”

Harry got lost in his head while Liam and Niall went back and forth, slightly arguing over the fact that Liam was making them vacate the flat for the evening. Harry didn’t care about something as silly as that. All he wanted was Louis to find what Harry had left in the pocket of his jeans. He wanted the chance to talk to him, to check up on him. He was worried and he barely even knew the guy. But he also wanted to know if Louis was thinking about him as much as he was thinking about Louis. He wanted to know if it had all felt surreal for him too. Harry had never felt such a strong connection to someone so fast, and he was fairly certain that it wasn’t all because of the obvious physical attraction between them. It felt different. It felt like _so_ much more.

 

*          *         *

 

If it hadn’t been for the ridiculous amount of tequila he’d consumed, Louis was positive that he wouldn’t have slept at all. Once he’d gotten home he’d decided to sleep in one of the guestrooms. He was beyond drunk and beyond confused, and he knew that lying in bed beside Eleanor would only increase the feelings of guilt that was coursing through his body. He’d finally drifted off to sleep after what had felt like hours of lying awake and replaying the night over and over again in his mind. Even now, as he sat at the kitchen table and sipped his tea, all his could think about was Harry and the way his lips had looked (and felt) wrapped around his cock. Louis couldn’t lie. He wasn’t only thinking about the amazing snogging session or blowjob he’d shared with Harry, he just couldn’t stop thinking about Harry in general. All of the confusion aside, Louis just couldn’t get his green eyes or perfect dimples out of his mind.

Louis also couldn’t believe that he’d done something so far from heterosexual. He’d had his very first sexual experience with a male, and he’d waited until a _week_ before his wedding to explore the possibility that maybe he wasn’t straight after all. What kind of sane human being starts exploring their sexuality after spending 80,000 pounds on his upcoming wedding? Louis was obviously far from sane. In fact, he was the exact opposite from sane.

“Sweetie, you look dreadful,” Eleanor said as she entered the kitchen, wrapped in nothing but a flimsy, silk robe. The material barely even covered her ass. Typically, Louis would be pawing at her in a heartbeat, but now all he could do was think of Harry in his sheer top and the way he’d left it barely buttoned. _Get a fucking grip, Louis._ “How much did you drink last night?”

Louis grumbled a bit as Eleanor forced herself onto his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck. He was far too hungover to be holding another human. “Not that much.”

“Really? Because Daniel told me you pretty much drank all the liquor yourself.”

Daniel told her? _Daniel told her?_ “When were you talking to Dan?”

Eleanor shrugged as she ran her fingers through Louis’ fringe. “He texted me this morning to make sure you made it back okay. He said something about you meeting a few new guys and he was a bit wary.”

He was wary? Louis made a mental note to kick Daniel out of his friendship circle. Of course, he couldn’t actually do that until after the wedding, since he was one of his groomsmen and all. “They were great guys, Daniel was the arse.” When Eleanor started places kisses along Louis’ jawline, he motioned for her to get off him, earning himself a look of disapproval. “I’m gross, love. I’m gonna go shower.”

He made a beeline for the guestroom where he’d discarded his clothes from the night before. He fished around in his pockets, retrieving his wallet and whatever the hell else had managed to find its way in his jeans. He pulled out a lone bill, a five-pound note. He was about to stuff into his wallet when he noticed that it had been written on, blank ink contrasting against the paper.

_Holy fuck._

He nearly died of shock when he read the writing: _Call for a good time – 020 7946 0730 H. x_

 _H._ That had to be Harry, right? There was no way a random bill with someone’s phone number written on it had just found its way into his jeans. Louis had definitely not seen this bill before, he would have noticed the writing and the number, the little _H_ and _x_ at the end of the scribbles. Harry had actually managed to sneak him his number. Of course he had. _Of. Fucking. Course._

Louis’ head was such a mess that he managed to wash his hair three times over before realizing it. His mind was everywhere and nowhere. All he wanted was to pick up the phone and call Zayn, to tell him everything that had happened and demand some sort of grand advice. Zayn was the only person who could walk him through this, the only person who could talk him off the ledge. Zayn would understand and wouldn’t judge.

The second Louis was out of the shower, his phone was in his hands and he was pulling up his string of texting conversation with Zayn. There was no time to waste. He needed help – _now._

**To: Zayn  
I know you’re at a shoot this morning, any chance we can grab lunch afterwards?**

The thing Louis loved most about Zayn was that he was always there. He’d always been there. Even when he was in the middle of work, Louis could count on Zayn to come through. He’d never had a better friend in his life. When they’d first met, Louis had been head over heels in awe of Zayn (it had mostly been a physical infatuation), but the second they started talking it was obvious that they were destined to be best mates. Besides, it didn’t hurt to have a best mate who was in a similar situation career wise. They understood each other better than anyone else, and it was a constant comfort for Louis to have someone by his side.

**From: Zayn  
** **Pick me up at the shoot at noon and I’m all yours**

So, it was settled. Zayn messaged the address of the set to Louis and all Louis had to do was wait out the next couple of hours. He stared at the five-pound note he’d left on the bathroom counter, the phone number basically jumping out of the paper at him. What the hell was he even supposed to do with that? Was he supposed to call Harry and tell him how nice of a time he’d had? Was he supposed to send him a text telling him that he wouldn’t mind exploring whatever the fuck had happened last night a little bit more? Was he just supposed to burn the bill and pretend like nothing happened? Okay, so burning currency was a crime, Louis would definitely not be picking that option, but he needed to do something.

He could spend it on some milk for his tea. That seemed like the most logical solution.

He’d just wait for Zayn to tell him what to do. Zayn would know best, he always did.

 

*          *          *

 

“Why won’t you just tell us what happened?” Niall was still harassing Harry. They’d just finished breakfast and were sitting on the couch together, PlayStation controllers in their hands as they played a round of FIFA. Harry had managed to dodge their questions long enough to take a hot shower, but the second he’d emerged from the bathroom Niall and Liam had pounced on him again. They just wouldn’t let off.

“Nothing happened,” Harry said for the millionth time as he tried to control his character towards the net. He royally sucked at video games, and he was certain that the only reason Niall and Liam ever asked him to play was so that they could win.

Liam scoffed, not believing him for a second. “So, you’re telling us that you were alone with the guy for three hours and nothing happened? The club closes at two, what did you guys do until you got home?”

“We hung out,” it should be noted that Harry was the world’s worst liar. He knew that – hell, every single person that had ever met him knew that. Once, when he was five, he’d stolen a pack of gum from the market, and when his mum had asked him where he’d gotten it from he’d told her that it fell from the sky. _Yup, world’s worst liar._

“You hung out?” Liam’s voice was caked in suspicion. “Where?”

Harry shrugged. “Outside.”

“You’re such a fucking liar, Haz. If you guys had been wandering the streets of London, your face would be all over the internet by now. Louis is literally followed everywhere he goes. If it wasn’t photographed, it didn’t happen,” when the fuck did Niall get so clever?

“Fine,” Harry huffed a breath of annoyance. “We hung out in his limo, drove around the city a bit. It’s no big deal. The guy is fucking straight. He’s getting married for crying out loud.”

_He’s getting fucking married. To a woman._

“You sound pretty defensive considering it’s no big deal, mate,” Liam said the words gently as he watched Harry with a worried expression.

Harry wanted to tell them everything, he _needed_ to tell them. Liam and Niall were his best mates in the entire world, and if he could trust anyone it was the two of them. He didn’t think he could spend the rest of eternity pretending like he hadn’t had some sort of intense night with Louis Tomlinson. He knew he’d never see him again, not in person anyways, and it almost stung. _Almost_. He needed his friends to help him through it.

“If I tell you guys what happened, you have to swear to me that it never leaves this room.”

Niall and Liam both dropped their controllers and nodded their heads silently.

Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how desperate they were for gossip. “Okay, so we, uh,” he stumbled over his words, trying to figure out the best way to explain whatever had happened between them. “I guess we sort of hooked up?” Neither of them looked surprised, which only annoyed Harry more. “Why don’t you look shocked?”

Niall shrugged. “You guys were giving each other the eyes all night. I was fairly certain that you were giving him a handy under the table or something at one point.”

Wow, so that’s what Niall thought of him? Although to be fair, he definitely would have done that if Louis had let him.

“What do you mean by sort of, though?” Liam asked. “And, he’s getting married, right? You said he’s straight?”

Leave it to Liam to be the sensible one, the one to think of all the problems in the situation. “Well, like, we snogged a bit, yeah? And I gave him a blowjob in his limo.” Niall raised his hand to give Harry a high-five, he lowered it in disappointment when Harry shook his head in disapproval. “We didn’t really talk about it, but yeah, I mean, he’s getting married in like six days. And he told me he’d never been with a guy before, so I guess I was just some sort of experiment?”

“Well, this is what you wanted, right? You just wanted a rebound guy to get you over asshat Oliver,” Niall stated the obvious, he stated exactly what Harry’s intentions had been.

Harry nodded his head as he picked his controller back up. “Yeah, you’re right. And I guess I should just be happy that I got to touch Louis Tomlinson’s dick and help him confirm the fact that he’s one hundred percent straight.”

Harry didn’t believe the words as they left his mouth, but he said them anyways. He had to make them be the truth. The thing was though, that as Harry was kissing Louis’ mouth and swallowing his come, it didn’t feel as though Louis _was_ one hundred percent straight. It felt as though Louis was completely into Harry and the way he was touching him. It felt like Louis could possibly even be into doing more.

Oh well, Harry didn’t have time to sit there and let some other guy’s sexual orientation confuse him. He’d come out of the closet years ago, and he wasn’t about to lock himself back in. Louis had come into his life quickly (pun intended), and he’d leave the same way. There was no use even thinking about it, right?

 

*           *          *

 

“You alright, man? You look kind of...off,” Zayn had only been sitting in Louis’ passenger seat for a maximum of two minutes and he could already tell there was something wrong with his friend. “Something happen with Eleanor?”

Louis shook his head as he shifted gears and steered his Porsche down the road. “No, she’s fine. I mean, she’s not fine, but she’s Eleanor, so I guess that’s something.”

“You’re rambling,” Zayn observed. “Does this have anything to do with the guy you were having eye sex with last night?”

Louis nearly lost control of the car, he nearly drove it off the fucking road. What the hell was Zayn talking about? Okay, obviously he knew what Zayn was talking about, but had it really been that obvious? He’d thought he’d managed to be somewhat discreet with Harry, but apparently he had managed to be the biggest fuck up ever. “Uh, what?”

Zayn sighed as he reached down to pat Louis’ hand that was holding the shifter. “C’mon, mate, it’s just me. And I’m _gay_. You can talk to me.”

Louis hesitated for a moment. He knew he could tell Zayn absolutely anything, he trusted him with his life, he just didn’t trust himself. “How did you know?”

Zayn laughed for a second before he realized that Louis probably wouldn’t appreciate it. “When I came to find you in the toilet, it looked like you guys were about to kiss or something. And he was flirting with you all night, whispering shit in your ear and talking about your ass. I mean, he made things pretty obvious on his end. But to be honest? I’ve never seen you look at someone the way you looked at him. Your eyes were proper sparkling, it was kind of lovely.”

 _Huh. Lovely? Eyes sparkling? What the hell?_ “I kissed him,” was all Louis could manage to say. May as well get it all out in the open. “And I let him, fuck, I let him give me a fucking blowjob.”

Zayn was silent for long enough that Louis started to panic again. He pulled up into an empty car park and cut the engine to the car. He couldn’t breathe. He’d just admitted that he’d cheated on his fiancée and had a gay experience all in one go. How was he supposed to survive this? “Can you fucking say something, please?” he begged when Zayn was still just looking out the windshield, shock evident on his face.

“Sorry, sorry,” Zayn shook himself out of his trance. “I just wasn’t really expecting that last part, yeah? I’m actually just really fucking impressed.”

“Impressed, why?”

Zayn shrugged. “When I first did stuff with a guy I was fucking scared shitless. I barely made it past the snogging stage. I let him like, rub me off over my jeans but couldn’t bring myself to actually let him whip it out. So, you’re doing this whole gay thing a lot better than me already.”

“I’m not gay,” the words were deflated but outlined in defensiveness. _He wasn’t gay._

“Sorry, yeah, okay,” Zayn stumbled. “What’s going on in your head right now?”

Louis laughed dryly. “I honestly don’t have a fucking clue. He left me his number. Wrote it on a five-pound note and snuck it in my jeans. I found it this morning.”

“Are you gonna call him?”

Louis rested his head on the steering wheel. He was completely drained of energy. “I think I want to?” he finally admitted it, out loud and to himself. “I have no fucking clue what’s going on with me, you know? Like, I’ve never been so into someone before. Harry, he just, he’s so confident with himself and he’s funny and so fucking...”

“Fit?” Zayn finished Louis’ sentence for him. “Look, mate, I think you should call him. At least sort out whatever’s going on in your head. Maybe seeing him again can help you figure out if you’re actually into him or just having some sort of pre-wedding, mid-twenties life crisis.”

“I fucking cheated on Eleanor,” Louis whispered the words as the realization hit him. Guilt washed over him like a tidal wave. It didn’t matter how happy he was with her, they’d been together for all of his adult life, and he’d just hurt her in a way he’d never dreamed of.

“It’s okay, Louis,” Zayn’s hand was rubbing small circles on Louis’ back. “You did a shit thing, yeah, but it doesn’t make you a shit person, okay?”

If what Zayn said was true, then why did he feel like the biggest scum on earth?

 

*           *          *

 

Harry’s phone buzzed later that day, just as he was sitting down with his American History textbook. Midterm examinations were only a few weeks away and he’d definitely fallen behind in his reading. He’d put school on the back burner while dating Oliver, and now he was paying the price. He was boyfriendless and behind in school, _thanks Oliver._ He looked at his phone’s screen, eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he looked at the message that came from a number not saved in his phone.

**From: 020 7234 3456  
** **Don’t know if this is actually Harry’s number, but if it is, I was hoping we could talk?**

Harry was in the middle of typing a _who the hell is this_ reply when a new message came in.

**From: 020 7234 3456  
** **This is Louis by the way. Like, Louis from last night.**

He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. So, he had found the number Harry had snuck into his jean pocket. He could practically feel the nervousness coming off Louis just from the messages. It was clear that he freaking out. And he wanted to _talk_. Harry didn’t know if this was a good or bad sign, but he quickly saved the number in his phone and typed a response.

**To: Louis  
** **Name the time and place and I can be there. Ps. I’m really glad you found my little note. H. x**

His phone buzzed almost immediately. Harry was sure that the smile on his face was going to leave his mouth in a permanently stretched position.

 

**From: Louis  
** **I’ll pick you up in 30. You’re at your flat, right? Same place as last night?**

**To: Louis  
** **Yes. I’ll be waiting outside. Oh, and you’d be doing me a great service if you could wear some tight pants again this time. Wouldn’t mind seeing that bum of yours ;) H. x**

Harry wondered if the bum comment had been too much, and when he didn’t get another response from Louis he was certain that he’d crossed some sort of line. He’d figured that he could comment on Louis’ assets since you know, he’d sucked him off only a little more than twelve hours ago. But he should have known that Louis would wake up in the morning and regret everything. He probably only wanted to see Harry so that he could pay him off and make sure he didn’t sell Louis’ gay experience to the tabloids. Well, Louis could just go and fuck himself if that’s what he thought of him; Harry wasn’t going to have some stupid famous person come and try to pay him off. He wasn’t that desperate for cash.

 

*           *          *

 

Harry was sitting on the curb outside his building when Louis pulled up. Louis' heart was racing, his knuckles practically white from how hard he'd been gripping the steering wheel. He watched as Harry looked up from his phone and noticed Louis behind the wheel. He walked to the car slowly and stopped when he reached the driver side window, motioning for Louis to unroll it. 

"If you're here to pay me off, you can go to hell," Harry's words were a slow drawl, his mouth a hard line. 

"What are you on about?"

Harry rolled his eyes, and Louis took a moment to be confused. He'd almost expected Harry to try to kiss him the second he saw him, but he was the opposite of friendly. "I'm not going to run off and tell the tabloids about your little experiment, so you don't have to write me a cheque or anything."

Oh. So Harry thought Louis had woken up full of regret and wanted to make sure last night stayed a secret. Louis removed one of his hands from the steering wheel and placed it over the one that Harry had resting on the window frame of the vehicle. "That's not why I'm here. Just get in the car, yeah?"

Harry's stoic expression faltered immediately, and he wasted no time in rounding the Porsche and climbing into the passenger seat. "So, why you here then?" 

"Is it alright if we go somewhere and talk?"

Harry nodded his head, and Louis almost did it - he almost reached out and grabbed his face and devoured his lips. Well, obviously his attraction to Harry hadn't just been a drunken thing. Instead of kissing him, Louis peeled away from the curb and took off down the street, stealing small sideways glances at Harry as they drove in silence.

"Where we going?" Harry asked after five minutes of silence. 

"My studio, if that's okay?"

“Absolutely,” Harry’s voice was chipper, a complete 180 from when Louis had pulled up outside his building.

Neither of them said another word for the rest of the drive, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. In fact, Louis was almost scared by how natural it all felt. Nothing had ever felt so normal for him before, and even with the way his heart was racing, he couldn’t help but feel like it was all going to be okay. He realized that made him all kinds of naïve, but he didn’t really care.

Okay, that was a complete lie. He cared. _A lot._

Harry was the first one out of the car once Louis pulled up in the carpark. Louis watched through the windshield as Harry stood in front of the Porsche, his hands in his jumper pockets and a smile on his face. He thought back to how angry Harry had seemed when he’d thought Louis wanted to pay him off. Did that mean he cared? Did Harry hope that last night would repeat itself? Did Louis _want_ last night to repeat itself?

If only he had any of the answers to any of his questions. _If only_.

When louis finally got out of the car, he led Harry through the entrance of the building. The second the door was closed behind them, Louis let out a sigh of relief. They were free from the public eye, no longer at risk of being photographed, and that made all of this so much easier. He could talk to Harry, hell, he could _touch_ Harry (if that was what he wanted to do). Louis didn’t turn to look at Harry until they were in his studio. There were other rooms he could have taken him – he owned the building and knew no one else would be there – but this was his safe place. This was where he created his music, where he escaped from his life, and where he came when he needed to sort out his head. It was perfect.

Harry immediately sat on one of the chairs and leaned over the sound board, running his fingers over the assortment of buttons and switches. Once he’d had enough, he looked at Louis who was now sitting beside him.

“So...” Harry’s voice was quiet, and as it trailed off Louis thought he almost sounded as nervous as he was.

Louis tapped his fingers on the sound board in front of them, his eyes staring through the pane of glass that revealed a lone microphone in an adjacent room. “So.”

Harry laughed just then, his ridiculous cackle scaring Louis almost to the point where he jumped out of his skin. “Obviously we’re both bloody nervous,” Harry saying the words out loud almost calmed Louis down. He was glad to know he wasn’t the only one.

“You don’t really strike me as the nervous type,” Louis stated.

Harry shrugged. “I could say the same about you. You’re the famous one who performs in front of thousands of people.”

“I was so nervous the first time that I puked three times before the concert even started,” Louis didn’t know why he was sharing that particularly embarrassing story, but here he was “I’m nervous because I’ve never done this before.”

Harry was quiet for a long time, and Louis could tell by the way he was picking at his bottom lip that he was trying to sort out his words in his head before he said anything. “Was last night like a...uh...” Louis found the way Harry was stumbling over his words endearing. It amazed him that someone could go from so carefree and confident to being adorably nervous the next minute. _Oops. He hadn’t meant to just call Harry adorable._ “You were really drunk, yeah?”

“Are you asking me if I only hooked up with you because I was drunk?” Harry nodded his head and watched Louis intently as he thought over his answer. The thing was, Louis had asked himself the very same question at least a dozen times since he’d woken up that morning. He’d come up with a different answer a few times, but once he tallied it all up it was obvious what the truth was. “No. I mean, look, I’d be lying if I said the tequila didn’t help, but when I woke up this morning, I didn’t like, I don’t regret anything.”

Wow, so it was out there. The fact that Louis didn’t regret whatever had happened between him and Harry was out there in the open space and he couldn’t take it back _. He wouldn’t take it back._

Harry didn’t ask him for confirmation, he didn’t ask him why or make him list his reasons, all he did was ask for Louis to make him a cup of tea. Louis kept a kettle and a stash of his favourite tea in his studio, and once he had two steaming cups ready, they made themselves comfortable on the leather couch that lined one of the walls of the room. Louis made sure to keep a safe distance from Harry as he sat on the opposite end, his back against the armrest and his knees tucked into his chest. He watched as Harry blew air over his cup of tea and tried to stop the images of last night from taking over his brain. But the way Harry’s lips were puckered only reminded him of the way they’d been wrapped around his cock in the limo.

“How old were you when you came out?” the question left Louis’ lips before he’d even really thought of the words and whether or not he had any real right to ask Harry such a personal question. _God, he needed a filter_.

 

*           *          *

 

“How old were you when you came out?” Harry’s eyes shot up at Louis at the question. He’d expected the question to come up at some point, but he hadn’t really thought that Louis would just throw it out there without any preamble, as they sat there and gingerly sipped at their Yorkshire teas. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, yeah?”

Harry shook his head and smiled at Louis over his steaming cup. “I don’t mind, Lou. You can ask me anything. I was fifteen.”

“Did you always know? That you were gay?”

Harry loved that Louis wanted to talk to him about this, that he felt comfortable enough to talk to ask him these questions. “I think I always kind of knew, you know? Like, I was always attracted to other guys at school. And then I got my first girlfriend when I was fifteen. The night I lost my virginity to her, that’s when I knew for sure. It just wasn’t what I thought it would be, and when I talked to my best mate about it, he was the one who helped me figure it out.”

Louis was staring at him, his mouth open as if another question was on the tip of his tongue. “Did he freak out about it?”

Harry shook his head. “You remember Niall from last night?” he waited for Louis to nod his head before continuing. “We’ve been mates since we were ten or so, when his family moved to my hometown. He’s always been really supportive.”

“What about your parents?”

Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone ask him so many questions; it was almost refreshing having someone want to know so much about him. He couldn’t read too much into it though. Maybe Louis was just trying to figure his own life out and that was all this was. Maybe he didn’t really give a shit at all. He took a sip of tea before answering Louis’ question. “My mum is honestly the best. I think maybe she knew before I did. And my sister, Gemma, she just teased me saying that I wasn’t allowed to steal her boyfriends, but she’s been lovely about it.”

They sat there for what felt like forever, Louis asking Harry about his experience with coming out and whether or not it had any profoundly negative impacts on his life. Harry told him about some of the kids at school that gave him a hard time, how growing up in a small village like Holmes Chapel completely ruined any chance he had at finding a boyfriend, and how sometimes he’d wished that he could be “normal”. But Harry also told him about how much he loved himself, how his mum, stepdad and sister had encouraged him to not let anyone bring him down, and how over the last five years he’d learned that it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. He was happy and his sexual orientation didn’t matter.

The conversation eventually shifted onto lighter subjects. Harry couldn’t wipe the fond smile he wore as Louis told him about his family. The way he spoke about his mum and countless siblings ( _five sisters and a brother, what the actual fuck?)_ made Harry’s heart melt. While Louis told him about how he’d been fired from Toys R Us and how he’d starred in his high school’s production of Peter Pan, Harry completely forgot that he was sitting on a sofa with a famous person. He completely forgot that Louis made music that was listened to by millions of people. He completely forgot that the guy sharing his life stories with him was some famous, rich celebrity who’d picked him up in a fancy Porsche.

He also forgot that he was very much straight and very much getting married.

Louis’ phone started to ring, breaking their conversation about how Harry was studying health sciences at King’s College. Harry watched as Louis took the phone from his pocket, his face falling as he read the caller ID. Harry couldn’t stop staring at the name written across the screen and how it was accompanied by a photo of a brunette, the very same brunette he’d seen pictures of on Google that very morning. _Eleanor,_ of course.

“Sorry, I gotta take this,” Louis looked over at Harry, his eyes filled with sadness and frustration. Harry didn’t know if he’d ever seen someone look so torn before. It almost broke his heart.

“Hey. I’m at the studio, oh shit, I’m sorry, I forgot,” Harry listened to Louis’ side of the conversation with his fiancée. He watched as Louis held the phone between his ear and shoulder and slouched back on the couch, his eyes screwed shut. Harry could hear Eleanor’s voice rising on the other end, and there was no denying the fact that she sounded beyond mad. “Look, El, I have work to do, something came up and I can’t...no I can’t get out of it. For fuck sakes, Eleanor, I can’t just drop...”

Harry felt awkward sitting beside Louis and practically eavesdropping on his rather private conversation with his soon-to-be-wife, especially since Louis was currently lying about being with him. He got up off the couch and moved to the little table with the kettle. He busied himself with making more tea, focusing on the sound of the water boiling instead of the voice blaring through Louis’ phone. Eleanor was screaming now, and when Harry walked back over to the couch and handed Louis a fresh cup of tea, he frowned at the expression on Louis’ face. He looked completely broken, exhausted from everything going on.

“I don’t really give a fuck what they think of me to be honest,” Louis finally cut Eleanor’s screaming off, finally decided it was time for him to say something. “I’m pretty sure I’m the one who paid for their little fucking trip to Rome last month, so they can just fuck right off. Yeah, fuck you too, sweetheart.”

Louis pressed the end button on his phone before throwing it across the room. He slumped into Harry’s side, his head falling onto his shoulder, and Harry immediately put down his cup of tea and wrapped his arms around Louis. He couldn’t even imagine the thoughts that must be running through Louis’ mind. He wondered if it was always like that between them, if Louis and Eleanor were always fighting. He immediately felt like a selfish prick. It didn’t matter if Louis and Eleanor’s relationship was a mess, that didn’t mean _anything_ for Harry. It didn’t mean he had a single chance in the world.

“I’m sorry,” Louis’ voice cut through the air after several minutes of silence.

Harry drew small circles on Louis’ shoulder with his thumb. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you want to talk about it?”

Louis sighed, leaning even further into Harry. “I think, fuck, I think we’re just different people, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been together for eight years, since we were eighteen, and it’s just, it’s not the same,” Louis explained. “We’ve both changed, and sometimes I feel like she’s only in it for the money and the fame.”

“Are you still in love with her?”

 

*            *          *

 

“Are you still in love with her?” Harry’s question stirred something in Louis’ chest. _Was he still in love with Eleanor?_ He didn’t know if he knew the answer to that question, and that scared him the most. In only six days, he’d be watching her walk down the aisle of some church she’d insisted on getting married in. He’d say, “I do” and let her put a ring on his left fourth finger – she’d become Mrs. Tomlinson. But he honestly didn’t know if he was in love with her.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “She was my first and only serious relationship. All I’ve ever really known is her. But now...”

“Now, what?” Harry’s voice shook as he asked the question, as if whatever Louis’ answer was held all the weight in the world.

Louis thought about what he was trying to say, but he was just as confused as ever. Of course, he’d lied to Eleanor. He wasn’t really working and he definitely _could_ make it to dinner with her parents, but that wasn’t want he wanted. And he was _so sick_ of being what everyone else wanted. He wanted to stay at the studio, wrapped up in Harry, talking about nothing and everything all at once. He wanted to get to know the guy who’d taken over his every thought in less than twenty-four hours. He wanted to figure out just what was going on in his head.

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” Louis finally whispered. “Last night, I’ve never done anything like that. I’ve never _thought_ of being with a guy before. But then I met you and now I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

Harry’s lips rested on the top of Louis’ head, and Louis felt his heart calm as they placed a soft kiss against his hair. “I didn’t mean to screw everything up for you,” Harry breathed into the room. “And if I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t think this is all just a physical thing for me. Last night, when I went to the club, I just wanted to rebound hard, but then I met you and, god,” Harry was stumbling over his words again and Louis fought the smile that was threatening his lips. “Lou, I think you’re the furthest thing from a rebound.”

Louis moved out of Harry’s arms Harry’s words died between them. He moved so that he could face the prettiest boy he’d ever seen, he wanted to gaze into his emerald eyes and pray that they’d tell him what the hell was going on. He wanted Harry to tell him what the hell was going on. “Harry, I don’t know what I’m doing,” he was pretty sure that that was the most obvious thing on the planet right now. “I’m getting married in six fucking days, and now I don’t even think I’m _straight._ How am I supposed to marry her when I don’t even know who I am?”

Harry extended his hand so that it was resting on Louis’ cheek, his long fingers sprawled from his temple to his jaw. “I don’t know, Lou. I wish I could answer that for you. I wish I could tell you not to marry her, to give yourself time to figure things out. Fuck, I wish I could tell you to explore things with me, but I don’t have that right.”

“I want to explore things with you,” Louis’ eyes widened at his own words. He hadn’t expected himself to admit that deep, dark secret. He hadn’t even known he’d felt that way, not really. But it was the truth. He _needed_ to explore things with Harry. He needed to figure out what was going on between the two of them. He needed to know if he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

“I don’t want to just be some sort of experiment to you.”

Louis peeled Harry’s hand from his face and moved their hands into his lap, lacing their fingers together. “I can’t tell you how this is all going to turn out. I can’t promise you that I’m going to decide that being gay, or bisexual, or _whatever_ I am, is going to work out. But I _can_ promise you that you aren’t just some experiment, Harold. I’ve never clicked with someone like this. I’ve never wanted to spend time with someone as much as I want to spend time with you. And that fucking scares me. I’m _scared_. I need you to be patient with me, but I need you.”

 _Wow_ , had those words really just left his mouth? Louis felt like he was having some sort of out of body experience. He felt like he was floating in the room, watching his conversation with Harry take place. He had no idea who the guy holding Harry’s hand was. He had no idea where he’d even come from. He wasn’t happy, he’d known that. He wasn’t completely naïve to his psychological state. But if anyone had asked Louis Tomlinson about his sexual orientation just twenty-four hours ago, he would have said he was straight. He wouldn’t even have bat an eye. There would have been no doubts lingering in the back of his head. But now, with Harry sitting beside him and his fingers laced with his own, Louis had _no fucking clue._ All he knew was that he was getting married in six days, and he had just started an affair with a man. _Well then._

 _Oh god, Louis had turned into his father._ His biological father had been a real piece of work. He’d had his fair share of affairs when he’d been married to Louis’ mum, and Louis had always prided himself in being nothing like his old man. But here he was, basically a chip off the old block. He had a woman at home who loved him ( _well, to be fair, Louis wasn’t entirely sure if she did love him_ ), but all he wanted was to kiss the guy sitting beside him. He wanted to explore his feelings for Harry, regardless of his life with Eleanor. It was official. Louis Tomlinson was a scumbag.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice cut through Louis’ self-deprecating thoughts. “It’s going to be okay, alright? I’ll be here for you every step of the way, and I’ll back off the second you tell me to.”

Okay, so Harry was basically perfection and Louis didn’t know how to handle that. He wasn’t all that used to having a supportive significant other. _Holy shit, Louis, you’re getting a little ahead of yourself here._ He was used to Eleanor taking and taking, but here Harry was, trying to be the giver – trying to be everything Louis needed him to be.

“I’d understand if this is too much for you,” Louis said quietly. “I mean, I’m cheating on my fiancée here, it’s not exactly a perfect situation. I would understand if you don’t want anything to do with me.”

Harry’s hands were on either side of Louis’ face in a heartbeat, their noses brushing against one another’s. “We can feel like shitty people together, yeah? But I’m not letting you go, not until you tell me to.”

Once the words were out of Harry’s mouth, Louis broke the gap between them. Their lips connected in a way that was so different from the night before. It was gentle, sweet, and lacked any sense of hesitancy. Louis didn’t feel the need to rush it. He wanted to savor every single moment, to kiss Harry slowly until their lips were blue and their lungs were aching. Louis wanted this, and that was both the scariest and most refreshing thing in the world.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Uni started up again and it took me a bit to get into the swing of things. I'll try to update again in the next week or so :)

It had been two days since Harry had last seen Louis, which meant that Louis’ wedding was only four days away. _Four fucking days._ Harry had spent all of his waking hours trying not to think about how he was going to steal Louis away from Eleanor. He tried to focus on his studies, his part-time job at the coffee shop, _anything_ other than Louis. But nothing worked. All Harry lived and breathed was Louis Tomlinson. He lived for the messages Louis was constantly sending to his phone, living for the little “good mornings” and “I miss your lips”. _God,_ it was like he was fifteen all over again. Harry hadn’t had such a stupid, silly crush over someone in such a long time. But it was more than a crush – it was _so much more._

**From: Louis  
Harolddddd**

Harry was laying in his bed, barely awake yet, when his phone buzzed. His face immediately broke out into a smile when he read the message on his lock screen. Louis had quickly become his favourite reason to smile. He was quite aware how ridiculous it all was. Liam and Niall were quick to tell him that he was _doing it again_. He was _falling hard_ and he wasn’t sure if there was any way for him to stop.

**To: Louis  
Lou bear, come cuddle with me**

Louis’ response came immediately, and all it was was a smiley face and a thumbs up emoji. Harry rolled over in his bed, groaning. Louis was probably curled up with his fiancée right now, he probably couldn’t actually type back a _real_ response. Harry had tried to squash all of the insecurities that had risen in his chest over the past couple of days. He tried to forget about the fact that Louis wasn’t actually _his_. He tried to forget about the fact that no one could ever even know what was happening between them, except for their few closest friends. He wanted Louis to meet his mum and Gemma, he wanted to hold his hand and walk down through the grocery shop. He wanted to scream his infatuation with Louis from the fucking rooftop. But instead, Harry could only internally pine over the blue-eyed boy who had quickly invaded his life. All he could do was _hope_ that Louis would choose him.

It was official, Harry needed to get a fucking grip on reality.

Harry must have drifted back off to sleep, because the next thing he knew he was waking up to find his bed sinking under the weight of an extra body and an arm wrapping around his waist. His back had been to his bedroom door and he hadn’t even heard the intruder come in. He was about to fling his elbow backwards when he felt the intruder’s lips brush against the back of his neck.

“Missed you so much,” Louis’ voice whispered against his skin, the hair on Harry’s back immediately standing up on edge. _Louis._

Harry turned over in a split second, his eyes wide with surprise to find Louis in his bed. _Holy, fucking shit. Louis was in his bed._ “What are you doing here?” Harry’s voice was deep with sleep. Maybe he was still dreaming.

Louis smiled softly as he lifted a hand and ran it through Harry’s curls. “You told me to come cuddle with you, so here I am. Niall let me in.”

Harry would have to remember to bake Niall a cake or something. He was now his favourite person on earth, well, apart from Louis. “I didn’t expect you to come.”

“I haven’t yet,” Louis’ eyebrows wiggled suggestively and Harry threw his head back in laughter at the innuendo. He loved that Louis was getting more and more comfortable. He loved that everything with Louis was so easy. God, maybe he could even love Louis. Liam was right, he fell way too easily. “Of course I would come, Harold. I’ve wanted to do nothing but cuddle you since I dropped you off the other day.”

Harry smiled at Louis’ words. That’s all he’d wanted too. He’d wanted nothing more than to be wrapped around Louis, safe from the rest of the world. “Just thought you might be busy with...you know,” and there Harry was, ruining the moment by bringing up the stupid, fucking wedding.

There was a moment of awkward silence, a moment where they both thought about what Harry’s unfinished sentence had really meant. Harry didn’t _want_ to finish it, he didn’t want to bring up Eleanor or how Louis would be a married man in four days time. He wanted to live in the moment and pretend like it was just the two of them, nobody else. All he wanted was Louis.

“The only thing I’ve been busy with is thinking about you,” Louis’ voice finally found itself, pulling them out of their weighted silence.

 

*           *          *

 

“The only thing I’ve been busy with is thinking about you,” Louis meant it. He’d been doing nothing but thinking about Harry since he’d dropped him back off at his flat after hanging out at his studio. He’d been successful at pissing Eleanor off at least a dozen times – his brain way too busy processing thoughts about Harry to even remotely care about the last minute planning of their wedding. The only other thing Louis had managed to do with his time in the last two days was write a few songs, which of course were about Harry. He was literally living and breathing Harry Styles at this point, and he was fairly certain he’d gone completely mad.

Harry tucked his head into the crevice of Louis’ neck, and Louis thought he might die from sensory overload. Harry smelt like a mixture of sweat and vanilla shampoo, and Louis couldn’t help but bury his nose into the mess of curls sitting on the top of Harry’s head. A shiver involuntarily rolled down Louis’ spine when Harry left a soft kiss on his neck. Before Louis could even finish obsessing over the tiny peck, Harry’s lips began to suck at the sensitive skin, his tongue darting out to leave swirls of wetness. Louis’ heart started beating rapidly, and if he wasn’t a fairly healthy twenty-six-year-old, he would probably be suffering from a fatal heart attack right about now. _Yup, Harry Styles was going to be the death of him._

Louis let Harry kiss along his neck, collarbones and jawline until he couldn’t take it anymore – until he _needed_ him. He pulled Harry’s face away from his skin and towards his own set of lips. Their moans got intertwined with one another as their lips crashed together in perfection. Louis had never, _absolutely never_ , enjoyed snogging someone as much as he enjoyed snogging Harry. It was different than anyone before. Their lips had apparently been made for each other. They fit together perfectly, and when Harry’s tongue swiped against his own, Louis was absolutely positive that two tongues had never created sparks the way theirs did. Everything was fucking magical. Every single way Harry and Louis touched set him in a tailspin, and there was no way he was ever going to get enough.

They kissed until kissing wasn’t enough for them anymore. Louis wasn’t quite sure where he’d found the courage, but he’d found himself straddling Harry and he was fucking proud of himself. He’d come a long way in just a few days. He’d gone from being awkward as fuck in the back of the limo while Harry gave him the best blow job of his life, to straddling Harry in a bed in a blink of an eye. He had no clue where the line was anymore. He was fairly certain he’d be perfectly okay with doing just about anything with Harry, but this was all new to him. Louis was in uncharted territory without a map and he was bound to get lost once or twice.

Louis had never touched another guy’s dick before, and he’d never planned on it, but now he was on top of Harry and all he wanted to do was slide his hand down the front of Harry’s boxer briefs and touch him. He wanted to know what every inch of Harry felt like. Harry watched him as Louis moved a shaking hand down Harry’s bare chest until his fingers were at the precipice of a pair of black Calvin’s. Louis’ movements stopped abruptly, his hand frozen on Harry’s lower abdomen. He had no idea what to do next, (well, he knew _what_ to do, but he wasn’t sure _how_ to do it). He should have done his research, he should have actually thought about how the fuck all of this was supposed to work.

“You can touch me,” Harry’s deep voice broke Louis’ inner battle, drawing his attention back to the beautiful boy who was lying underneath him. Louis almost died just at the look in Harry’s eyes. They were hooded with lust, his lips swollen from their kisses and parted in anticipation. Louis trailed Harry with his eyes, starting from his perfect mouth all the way to where Louis’ hand was currently struggling to grasp ( _literally_ ). It was more than obvious how much Harry wanted him – his dick was solid underneath the thin material of his underwear, and Louis all but gasped at the outline of it. _Okay, that just wasn’t fucking fair_. From the looks of it, Harry was fucking huge. Louis was about to touch his first dick and it was a fucking anaconda, _go figure._

“Louis,” Harry’s voice broke through the silence again, a whine in the space between them. He bucked his hips upwards, grinding against Louis. “I want you so bad.”

That was all Louis needed apparently. All he needed was to hear the desperation in Harry’s voice, to see just _how much_ Harry wanted him. He slid his hand underneath the band of the Calvin’s and took a deep breath. It was now or never.

“Fucking hell,” Louis groaned as he slid his hand down Harry’s length, completely in wonder of his silky skin. He ran his fingers over Harry’s tip, moaning as his fingers came into contact with the precome that was already there. As he wrapped his hand around the base, he looked to Harry for approval and nearly came in his own pants at the expression on Harry’s face. It was better than anything he’d ever witnessed before. Harry almost looked broken, as if he was completely wrecked under Louis’ touch.

Louis hooked his fingers into the waistband of Harry’s underwear, pulling them down and freeing Harry’s cock from the constraints of the fabric. Every single one of the terrifying and hesitant thoughts that had been running through Louis’ mind were now gone. Now that he was actually doing this he felt like it was the most normal thing in the universe. It was almost as if he was made just to touch Harry like this, just to _have_ Harry like this. Nothing had ever felt so normal before. Even the first time he’d ever been with a girl hadn’t felt like this. He’d been scared the whole time, absolutely sure that he was doing something wrong. But having a naked Harry underneath him was practically the most natural thing on earth. _Okay, Louis was definitely NOT straight._

Louis buried his face in Harry’s neck, sucking at his skin and trying to push back every single one of his thoughts. He didn’t want to focus on his sexuality, on who he really was, he just wanted to focus Harry. Harry was all that mattered, he’d figure the rest of it out eventually.

“I want you inside me,” Louis stilled at Harry’s words, completely frozen in shock by his confession. Obviously Louis knew about this part, he knew that it would come up sooner or later, but he hadn’t imagined it to feel like this. He wasn’t scared, he wasn’t unwilling – he wanted Harry just as much as Harry wanted him (maybe even more so).

When Louis didn’t move or respond right away, Harry shifted himself up on his elbows, forcing Louis to sit back on his knees. They stared at each other for what felt like eternity, both of them trying to say everything they were feeling through eye contact. Louis could get lost in Harry’s eyes for forever and still need more. Every time he looked into them he felt his heart beat faster than it ever had before. Harry was intoxicating, and Louis was very much addicted.

“I’m sorry,” Harry rushed the words out, speaking faster than Louis had ever witnessed before. “I didn’t mean, I know it’s too soon, you’re probably not ready...”

Louis silenced Harry by placing a finger against his lips. “Shut up, would you?” he removed his finger and replaced it with his lips, kissing Harry gently. “I want that too.”

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. He obviously hadn’t expected that response, and Louis could only smile at his reaction. “Yeah?”

Louis nodded his head. “You’re gonna have to walk me through it a bit, but I really want this. I really want you to be my first guy.” He really wanted Harry to be his _only_ guy, but he wasn’t about to scare the kid away just yet.

“Okay, yeah, I just have to like, well you have to like prep first,” Harry was rambling, excitement radiating from his entire being. “Like, stretch it a bit, you know? I can do that myself if you’d prefer.”

Louis was shaking his head instantly. “I want to do it. Just show me how.”

Louis watched as Harry reached over to his bedside table and pulled out a container of lube. For a split second, he wondered how many different guys Harry had used it with but he shook the thoughts away immediately. It didn’t matter who they’d been with (who they _were_ with), all that mattered was that they were together now. He watched intently as Harry squeezed some of the liquid on his finger, keeping direct eye contact with Louis as he moved his hand between their bodies and pressed the lube covered finger into his entrance. Louis’ mouth parted as he watched Harry work himself open a bit, a soft moan coming from his lips. Louis was sure he could come just from watching this, just from watching Harry touch himself in a way he’d never imagined.

After a couple of minutes, Louis grabbed the lube from the bed and applied it to his own finger, moving Harry’s hand away. “Let me, love.” He didn’t think twice before sliding his finger into Harry. They moaned out together, Harry from the sensation of having a part of Louis inside of him and Louis from the way Harry’s heat was enclosed around him. He’d never thought something like this could be so good, and his dick twitched in anticipation of what was about to happen.

“You can add another finger,” Harry’s voice was raspy with desire, and he moaned loudly as Louis slid another finger into him. “Fuck, Lou, you’re so fucking good.”

Louis spent countless minutes opening Harry up. He reveled in the way Harry squirmed beneath him, in the way that he cried out when Louis twisted his fingers just so. He didn’t stop until Harry was sitting up and connecting their mouths once more. He let Harry undress him, let him place soft kisses along his bare chest as he expertly removed his jeans. Louis had never felt so unafraid in his life, and that in itself was terrifying. This was supposed to be scary. This whole experience was supposed to freak him the fuck out, but he felt the complete opposite of scared. He felt at home.

“Let me ride you?” Harry’s question caught Louis off guard, and before he knew it, Harry was pushing him down on the bed and straddling his hips. He watched as Harry reached over and pulled a condom out of the bedside drawer. He remained silent as Harry ripped the package open and slid the latex over Louis’ shaft. Watching someone put a condom on him had never looked so damn good before. “Are you ready?” Harry asked quietly, his eyes trained on Louis’ blue ones.

Louis took a deep breath and searched his brain for an inkling of hesitation, but he came back empty. There was nothing stopping him. Even the prospect of how wrong this was considering he was getting married in four days didn’t stop him from nodding his head. Louis took another deep breath as Harry began to lower himself onto him. The second he was inside of Harry, Louis’ mind went blank. He fought the urge to close his eyes, he wanted to watch Harry the entire time, he wanted to know what it looked like when Harry finally let go. Louis lifted his shaking hands until they were gripping either side of Harry’s hips, his fingers digging into soft skin. Everything about this moment was incredible, and Louis knew that there was no way in hell he was going to last long. He wanted to burst just from watching Harry’s mouth part slightly and his curls begin to stick to his forehead with sweat. Louis wanted to let go just at the mere fact that he was _inside_ of Harry, but he’d hold on for as long as he could.

“Lou,” Harry moaned as he quickened his movements. It was official, Harry moaning his name was definitely the hottest thing Louis had ever heard. “You feel so good, baby.”

 _Baby_. Louis had never been a fan of pet names, but Harry calling him baby was definitely his new favourite thing on earth. Louis watched as Harry moved his hand to his own dick, squeezing it as he moaned out Louis’ name once again. It was nothing like Louis had ever imagined. It was far more intimate than anything he’d ever experienced before. He’d never been good at gauging how close his partner was, but he could tell that Harry was just on the brink. “Come with me, babe,” he groaned out as he replaced Harry’s hand on his shaft and pumped it. It only took two quick tugs until Harry was spilling all over Louis’ chest, pushing Louis over the edge along with him.

Harry collapsed on top of Louis, both of them covered in sweat and panting heavily. Louis was fairly certain he could die tomorrow and be perfectly content with his life. He’d never felt so complete before, and he wasn’t sure if it was just because of the physical connected he now shared with Harry. Harry was so much more than just someone for him to sleep with, to discover himself with. Harry was the person he thought about day and night. He’d only known him for a brief amount of time, but Louis was so fucking smitten.

“That was, fuck,” Louis’ voice broke just then as he finally gave into the millions of emotions that were coursing through his veins. He’d never felt so overwhelmed before. He’d never even known that the emotions he was currently feeling could even coexist at the same time. He was happy, blissful even, but so fucking confused. How had he spent his entire life living a lie? How had he spent the last eight years thinking he was happy and so in love with Eleanor? How did he ever get down on one knee and propose to someone who wasn’t the boy who was currently laying on top of him?

_He was living a lie._

“Hey,” Harry whispered as he perched himself up so that he could look at Louis. He frowned as he noticed the tears that were silently falling from his eyes. “Lou, baby, what’s wrong?”

Louis wiped uselessly at his tear-stained face. “You’re incredible, you know that right?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Are you like, about to break up with me or something?”

 _Breakup?_ How could Harry even think he could walk away? Didn’t he know just how far gone Louis was? Wait, _breakup?_ Did that mean that Harry was just as far gone too? “I don’t think I could ever do that, Harold.”

“Then what’s wrong? I’ve never made someone cry from sex before.”

Louis ran his fingers through Harry’s curls, pushing them off his forehead. “I think I’m just having some sort of like, existential crisis or something.”

“What do you mean?”

Louis pushed Harry off of him so that he could sit up in the bed. He brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, hugging himself tightly. “I’ve never felt like this before,” he finally admitted. “My heart feels like it’s about to fucking explode,” he grabbed Harry’s hand and placed it on his chest so that he could feel how fast it was beating. “All these years, I thought, fuck, I thought I was straight. Harry, I’m _so_ not straight.”

Harry laughed just then, his eyes bright and his dimples pronounced. “I’d definitely say you’re not straight. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you were more experienced with guys then you let on. You’re fucking good at it.”

Louis laughed lightly until he grew serious once again. “Harry, I think, fuck, never mind.”

“Lou, talk to me,” Harry’s finger was lifting Louis’ chin up with his finger so that he could look at him directly. “You can talk to me about anything.”

“I wasted so much of my life thinking I was straight. I wasted so much of my life having mediocre sex with women when I could have had _this._ I never knew sex could be like this, I never knew I could feel so much.”

“Well, the selfish part of me is really glad that you didn’t figure it all out until right now,” Harry confessed. “I’m really happy that I get to be here for the journey.”

Louis’ face finally broke into a smile, his face almost sore from how happy he felt. He leaned forward until his lips connected with Harry’s and kissed him softly. “You should give me the name and number of that asshole who dumped you. I’d like to thank him for being a fucking moron.”

They laughed together at Louis’ joke, falling back into the bed and intertwining their limbs with one another. Louis knew right then and there that being wrapped up in Harry was the best feeling in the entire world. He knew that nothing would ever compare to the way he felt when he was with him. He would never find someone else who could make him feel so safe, so comfortable, so _himself._ If it hadn’t been for Harry and the way he’d come on to him at the club, Louis may have spent the rest of his life living a lie. He may have spent the rest of his life not knowing who he really was. Apparently ignorance was bliss, but Louis was so fucking happy now. He was happy to have some sort of grasp on who he really was, and he was fucking ecstatic to be wrapped up in Harry – emotionally and physically.

But maybe when everything was said and done and he was back in the bed he shared with Eleanor, he would wish he’d never found out the truth. Maybe when he was saying his vows and slipping a ring on Eleanor’s finger, Louis would wish he’d never given in to the curly haired, green-eyed angel. Maybe when this whirlwind affair was over and he had to go back to reality, Louis would wish he’d never met Harry at all.

Maybe he still had absolutely no idea who he was or what he was supposed to do with it all.

 

*

 

They laid in bed for hours, curled up into one another – talking, touching, and laughing until their sides hurt. Louis had never felt so at ease in his entire life. They only got out of bed when their stomachs started to demand food and lunch became a necessity. Louis found himself pulling on a pair of Harry’s joggers and one of his countless band t-shirts. He was positively swimming in them, but his heart ached with happiness. He’d never been in this position, he’d never been able to wear a lover’s clothes. Being wrapped up in Harry’s smell was intoxicating, and he was already trying to figure out how he could keep them for forever without Eleanor questioning their existence.

_Maybe there just needed to not be an Eleanor._

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Harry and Louis’ emergence from the bedroom drew the attention of Niall, who was sprawled across the couch with a PlayStation controller in his hand.

“Shut up, Niall,” Harry warned him as he grabbed Louis’ hand and led him towards the kitchen.

Louis had thought that he’d be embarrassed, that he’d walk out of Harry’s bedroom and want to crawl into himself and avoid whoever noticed them. But he didn’t. He was happy, hell, he was proud even. He was proud of himself, of being able to grab ahold of what he wanted and for not being scared of trying to figure out who he was. But most of all, he was proud to be standing next to Harry. He was proud to be the one that Harry wanted to cook lunch for, proud to have his fingers intertwined with Harry’s. Harry was easily the best human being Louis had ever met, and he couldn’t figure out what he’d done in his lifetime to deserve his attention.

Louis propped himself up on the kitchen counter, legs dangling off the edge as he watched Harry pull ingredients from various cupboards and the refrigerator. Louis was a _terrible_ cook, and he’d be lying if he said that having Harry cook for him wasn’t the biggest turn on ever. Every time Harry reached past him to grab something, Louis would wrap his arms around his neck and steal a kiss. He’d never felt so carefree in his life, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever feel like this again. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to be himself again – whoever that even was.

 _Well, that was a depressing thought._  

“Louuu,” Harry whined as he tried to pull away from one of Louis’ grasps. “The grilled cheese is going to burn.”

Louis hummed against Harry’s lips. “I could just have you instead.”

Harry moaned as he let Louis’ tongue slide into his mouth. He gave in for a moment until his stomach growled loudly. “So fucking tempting, baby, but you wore me out. I need food.”

“I’m really happy for you guys and all,” Niall’s voice called from the couch. “But way too much fucking information for my virgin ears.”

Harry and Louis laughed, Louis jumping off the counter and kissing Harry once more before making his way to the living room. He squeezed onto the couch, finding a sliver of space that Niall wasn’t occupying. “Sorry, mate.”

Niall smiled, sitting up to give Louis more space. He handed him a second game controller as he changed the settings of his FIFA game to two-player mode. “It looks like Haz has charmed you over to his side.”

Louis kept his attention on the television screen. He tried his hardest not to let his face show the varying emotions and thoughts that were running around in his head. Had Harry charmed him over to his side? Had Harry helped Louis figure out that he was indeed gay? Did he even like women at all? There were so many questions that needed answering, and he had absolutely no idea where to find the answers. It wasn’t something he could just look up in a book or Google. The only person who held the answers was him, and he had no idea how to even think at the moment.

“Hey,” Niall’s voice was quiet beside him, as if he was trying to make sure Harry didn’t overhear from his place in the kitchen. “It’s okay if you don’t know, you know. Harry’s a great guy. I don’t think he expects you to figure it all out right away.”

Louis looked at Niall then, thankful for the way that this practical stranger seemed to read every single one of his concerns. Apart from Zayn, Louis didn’t have many _real_ friends. He was constantly surrounded by people who seemed to want something from him, but Harry and his group of friends were genuine – so amazingly genuine.

“But, I’ve got to give you this one warning,” Niall’s voice turned serious. “If you hurt him, I will hunt you down and castrate you, alright? Harry’s my best mate, and he’s been hurt way too many times. He has a big heart, and I don’t need you waltzing into his life and breaking it.”

Louis nodded his head in understanding, which seemed to be enough of a response for Niall who clapped him on the back and turned back to the video game, all previous seriousness gone. The last thing Louis planned on doing was hurting Harry. He couldn’t even think of doing anything that would break the curly-haired boy who was helping him find himself. He’d   been honest with Harry so far. He’d told him that he didn’t know how this was all going to work out. But they were in this so much deeper now. They’d had sex. Harry had been his _first_ , so to speak. Did Harry think that meant something? Of course it meant something. But did Harry think that it meant that Louis was going to stop the wedding? Did he think it meant Louis’ would turn his life upside down?

Everything was a mess and nothing was certain. But Louis _was_ certain about his feelings for Harry. He _was_ certain that his heart had never felt so full in his entire life. That had to mean something – right?

 

*

 

One thing was for sure, Louis had never laughed so hard in his life. At some point in the afternoon, Liam and Zayn had shown up to the flat and now they were all sitting around talking as if they’d always all been friends. He was acutely aware of the fact that he and Harry were crammed into a small armchair, basically sitting on top of one another, Harry’s arms wrapped around his waist and holding him close. It felt like the most normal thing in the world. It felt like they were a real couple, sitting around with their friends and talking about life. Louis had never known something like this, not for years anyways. It had been a lifetime since he’d been able to do something like this. Ever since he’d achieved his dream and experienced the fame that came along with it, he hadn’t been able to just sit around with real friends and act as if life was normal. All the friends that he and Eleanor had had at the beginning had either drifted away from them or had started to use him for his name and money. But these four guys sitting with him now, they wanted nothing from him except his company and friendship (okay, well Harry wanted more) and it was lovely. Louis had never felt so comfortable, had never felt so himself.

“I’m gonna go make some tea, anyone want some?” Louis announced to the group.

“Me please,” Harry said, placing a single kiss on Louis’ neck before letting go of his hold on him.

Louis made his way to the kitchen, aware of the fact that Zayn was following closely behind. Obviously, he’d gotten the hints Louis had been trying to give through eye contact. He needed to talk to him privately. He _needed_ to tell him everything that had happened. Maybe this wasn’t the best time and place, but he was excited and scared and he needed his best friend.

“You look like you did the day you found out your album went platinum,” Zayn commented as he leaned against the counter and watched Louis fill the kettle.

“And you look like you were properly fucked,” Louis countered back, sending a wink in his friend’s direction.

Zayn smiled widely, not having remotely enough shame to keep his sexual escapades private. “Liam is fucking amazing, mate. The last time I fell this hard it was over Justin Timberlake.”

“It’s only been a couple days.”

Zayn moved closer to Louis so that he could whisper his next sentence. “You’re one to talk. You met Harry the same day I met Liam, and you’ve basically become the poster child for realizing you’re gay.”

“I’m not gay,” Louis hissed. It felt like the millionth time he’d said these words. It felt like the millionth time he’d tried to convince Zayn he wasn’t into men. But he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince anymore – Zayn or himself.

“No? So, I’m just imagining the way you were sitting on Harry’s lap? I must also be imagining the fact that you’re currently dressed in clothing that certainly don’t belong to you.” Louis’ face turned pink as he tried to busy himself with adding a teabag to the teapot. There was so much he _wanted_ to tell Zayn, but he wasn’t even entirely sure how to broach the subject. “Louis, it’s me, mate. Talk to me.”

“We had sex,” it was brief, it was blunt, but it was all he could manage to say. He waited a million heartbeats for Zayn to respond, and with each passing second the panic attack that had been threatening to overcome Louis for days ( _maybe even_ years) started to boil over the edge.

“Like, _sex sex_?”

Louis rolled screwed his eyes shut and nodded his head. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see Zayn’s reaction. “Yeah, like, I...fuck, I slept with him.”

He was well aware of the fact that Harry was just in the next room and that he was running the risk of him overhearing everything, but he needed to get it out. He needed to tell someone, he needed to tell Zayn, just how everything was making him feel. He was on top of the world, he was perfectly certain that sex with Harry was what he’d been born to do, and he needed to get it off his chest. He needed someone to know that he’d been living a lie his entire life. He needed someone to hold him accountable for figuring out who he really was.

“And?” Zayn pressed for more information.

Louis finally opened his eyes, meeting his friend’s curious gaze. “And it was fucking awesome,” he breathed. “It felt like I was coming up for air after drowning for the past twenty-six years. Is that normal?”

Zayn smiled again as he wrapped an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “It’s normal when you’re having sex with the right person.”

“You think...” Louis thought over Zayn’s words. Sex with the right person. Hadn’t Eleanor been the right person all these years? “You think I’m _supposed_ to be with Harry?”

Zayn shrugged as he picked up the two mugs from the counter and started to back out of the kitchen. “I think you owe it to yourself to find out.”

 

*          *          *

 

After Louis left, Harry found himself lying in his bed, drinking in the scent that Louis had left behind on his sheets. It was creepy, Harry wasn’t about to deny that, but it was the only thing that filled the void. He’d spent hours with him. They’d made love – _made love_ – a term Harry didn’t even really use all that much. They’d cuddled and talked about their families and hobbies. They’d hung out with their friends and played video games. It was almost as if Louis had been his for the entire day. But the second Louis had walked out the door of the flat, Harry had been hit with reality – _punched_ with reality. Louis still wasn’t his. It didn’t matter how many firsts they experienced or whatever else they shared. Louis was getting married in four days. Louis belonged to someone else. Louis belonged to a fucking woman.

Harry wasn’t quite sure what item of that list bothered him the most.

There was a soft knock on his bedroom door, pulling him out of his misery. “Come in,” he called as he sat up in his bed, back against the headboard. The very same headboard he’d been clinging to while riding Louis just hours before. _Fuck._

Niall walked into the room and sat on the edge of Harry’s bed, a small smile on his lips. Harry and Niall had been best mates for what felt like forever, for so long that they knew when the other person was down without even having to speak. It was almost as if they were telepathic. “You alright?”

Harry hugged his knees against his chest and shrugged. “I think I’m gonna get my heart broken again.”

“I told him I’d castrate him if he hurts you.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at Niall’s statement, but his laughter quickly fell flat. “Thanks, Nialler.”

“You really like him,” it wasn’t a question – Niall was simply stating a fact.

Harry nodded his head and sighed. “Does it really matter though? His wedding is four days away and he hasn’t said anything about calling it off. He’s going to get fucking married and forget about me.”

“Hey, four days is a long time.”

Harry tried to fight back the tears that had been trying to spill over since Louis had gone home – since Louis had gone back to _her._ “Don’t get my hopes up. It’s only going to hurt more when he shows up with a ring on his finger.”

He was trying not to think about the various outcomes that could come from this whole mess, but the scenarios kept flashing through his mind. Louis could end up marrying Eleanor and pretend like this thing with Harry had never happened. Louis could marry Eleanor and keep up an affair with Harry on the side. Louis could end things with Eleanor and go on to date countless guys and get all the experimenting in the world out of his system. Louis could end things with Eleanor and pick Harry. _He needs to pick Harry._ But Harry prided himself on not being completely delusional, so he refused to even think Louis choosing him was a remote possibility. That was a lie. It was all Harry thought about, it was all he _could_ think about.

Louis would pick Harry – right?

 

*           *          *

 

“Where the fuck have you been?” Eleanor was yelling before Louis even had enough time to close the front door. He didn’t even have a chance to respond to her question before she was waving a paper in front of his face. “Care to explain this?”

“Well, it’s nice to see you too. I’m glad you’re having such a wonderful day. Mine was great too, thanks for asking. I can’t wait to marry you and have these pleasant conversations every day for the rest of our lives,” it was official, the only tones Louis knew were sass and sarcasm. Eleanor had given him countless opportunities to practice and hone his skills. He should probably thank her for turning him into the sass master.

Eleanor threw her hands in the air before shoving the newspaper into Louis’ chest. “Stop being such an arse and explain why the _Daily Mail_ thinks you’re cheating on.”

Louis’ heart stopped. The _Daily Mail_ was writing articles about him cheating on Eleanor? His mind was racing, trying to figure out when and where they could have found out about Harry. Did they see them leaving the club together? Did they somehow see what had happened in the limo? Did they see Louis picking Harry up the other day? Had Harry sold them the story?

_What the fuck?_

Louis couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t even think and he was fairly certain he was about to pass out, but he grabbed the paper out of Eleanor’s hands and glanced down at the front page. _Louis Tomlinson Cheating on Fiancée Days Before the Wedding!_ The colour slowly started to spread across his face again, his heart started beating once more and he inhaled a deep breath. On the front page was a picture of Louis and Eleanor’s best friend Millie, both of them licking away at ice-cream cones and walking down a sidewalk. Okay, he could live with this. As long as the tabloids hadn’t found out the truth – hadn’t found out about Harry – he could live with this.

Oh god, he’d actually considered the idea of Harry selling the papers their story. He’d actually thought the worst about the sweetest person he’d ever met. How could even think Harry was capable of such a thing?

“What? You have nothing to say?” Eleanor’s angry voice brought Louis back to reality. Time for damage control.

“Calm down, would you,” Louis muttered as he moved past her and into the kitchen. He needed a cup of tea. If he was going to stand here and have this stupid fight with Eleanor, he needed a hot cup of tea.

“Calm down? Calm down!” Eleanor was on his heels, storming across the marble floor of the kitchen. “How am I supposed to calm down when I’m being humiliated like this? How could you do this to me?”

Louis laughed – he _laughed_ , which only made her face redder. She’d always been dramatic, and at the beginning that had been what had drawn him to her, but now it was just getting old. He was so sick of the drama. “What exactly is it about me having ice cream with Millie makes you think I’m fucking her? Since when do you believe what these so called journalists write about?”

 "If you aren’t sleeping with her than why were you even hanging out with her in the first place?”

Louis threw his hands up in frustration. He was exhausted. Fighting with Eleanor was exhausting. “She was helping me pick out a present for you, for fuck sakes!”

Eleanor’s face drained, all expressions of anger gone. “What?”

“I wanted to give you something the morning of our stupid fucking wedding, and I wanted it to be perfect so I asked Millie for help.”

“Our wedding isn’t stupid,” Eleanor whispered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I just...”

Louis moved the kettle off the stove, not even bothering to pour it into the mug he’d prepared. “You just thought the worst of me, like always. You just jumped to the conclusion that I was fucking cheating on you. Why are we even getting married if you think that of me?” Okay, so maybe Louis wasn’t being fair – after all, he _was_ cheating on her. But he was done putting up with all of her bullshit. He was done letting her walk all over him.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Eleanor moved closer, linking her arms around his neck. “I’m just so stressed with the wedding so close and I got a little crazy.”

Louis grabbed her arms and removed them from his body. He couldn’t be near her, not right now. He’d had such a perfect day with Harry, he’d been on cloud fucking nine, and now he had to deal with this shit. He should never have left Harry. “Maybe there shouldn’t be a fucking wedding.”

“What?” Eleanor was frantic again, her jaw practically hitting the floor. She ran after Louis as he made his way back to the front door. “What do you mean? Louis, where are you going?”

He turned to look at her before opening the door. “I _mean_ that maybe there shouldn’t be a fucking wedding. If you find the idea of marrying me so fucking stressful maybe we should just call it off, yeah?”

He slammed the door on his way out, imagining what Eleanor must look like on the other side. He had no doubt that she was probably crying, and he couldn’t deny the fact that he felt a pang of guilt. It didn’t matter how unhappy he was, how unhappy she made him, he still felt terrible for being such an arse to her. They’d been together for forever, she’d been his best friend for eight years. He shouldn’t be doing this to her. He shouldn’t be tearing her world apart.

But he was so fucking tired of her drama.

He wasn’t even thinking about where he was going. It was almost as if he was subconsciously steering the Porsche through the streets of London. There was only one place he wanted to be – only one person he wanted to be with. He’d possibly just called off his wedding, and Louis needed to see Harry. He needed to be wrapped up in him and forget about everything that had just happened. He needed to be happy. Harry made him happy.

He pulled up in front of Harry’s building, turned the engine off and just sat there. He wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next. He didn’t know if he even had the right to knock on the door to Harry’s flat and cry on his shoulder. He wasn’t even sure if there was something to really cry about. Louis had no idea where his life was going or what he even wanted for his life, all he knew was what he wanted in the very moment – Harry.

Somehow, in just a span of a few days, everything came down to Harry.

Louis took a deep breath and climbed out of the car. He needed to see Harry, he needed to wrap his arms around him and drink in the scent of his shampoo. It had barely even been over an hour since he’d said goodbye to him, but apparently that had been long enough to miss Harry, to miss everything about him. It was official, Louis was becoming pathetic. He’d never been so desperate for someone in his entire life. He’d never felt like his ability to breathe depended on another human being. But being around Harry was like coming up for air after being submerged under water for his entire life, and Louis didn’t know if he’d ever be able to give that up.

There was no hesitation when Louis raised his fist to knock on Harry’s door. He needed to see him, he needed to tell the boy who was quickly stealing his heart that he didn’t know what to do anymore. He needed Harry to help him figure it all out. He needed to look into Harry’s olive eyes and know that everything was going to be okay in the end.

“Louis?” Harry’s voice was laced with confusion, but the smile on his face lit up Louis’ heart.  

Every single one of his fears and worries vanished just at the site of Harry standing before him. As he leaned against the doorway Louis couldn’t stop the smile that was taking over his lips. “Think I could spend the night?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like it!! Would love to hear what you think xx


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for being so patient! I'm sorry that it took me so long to hammer out this chapter! Love you all x

Harry was happy, he was fucking elated actually, but he kept the smile from his face. He was sitting on his bed with Louis by his side. He had no idea why Louis had shown back up at his door, but he could tell there was something wrong. It didn't matter how many jokes Louis cracked or how many times he kissed Harry's neck, there was definitely something eating away at Louis. 

"Lou, what's going on?" Harry asked carefully as he laced his fingers through Louis'.

Louis was staring at their hands, and Harry couldn't help but wonder if Louis found the sight of it all just as perfect as he did. "What, are you not happy to have me back in your bed?"

Harry tsked at the sarcastic comment. He was definitely happy to have him back in his bed, but that was beside the point. "I can tell you're upset about something."

Louis finally looked up and met Harry's concerned gaze. "It's incredible, you know?"

"What is?"

Louis remained silent for a minute, just long enough to brush his fingers through Harry's curls. "I've been with her for eight bloody years and I only met you a few days ago, but you already know me better than she ever will."

Harry tried to calm his beating heart. Just because the words were coming from Louis mouth sounded like hope, he couldn't let himself get too excited. "That's got to count for something, yeah?"

"It's everything."

They were two very simple words, but they made Harry's heart sing. He wanted to be there for Louis, he wanted to comfort him, but a very selfish part of him didn't want to push Louis to talk. He didn't want to bring up her name, he didn't want to spoil whatever was going on. But the better part of Harry won and he found himself rubbing circles into the tensed muscles of Louis' back. "Talk to me, Lou."

Louis groaned as he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. "I don't even know what's going on anymore. The second I walked through the door she was yelling at me, accusing me of cheating on her with her best friend. And it just hit me, you know? It just hit me how fucking miserable we make each other."

He wanted to ask, Harry wanted more than anything to know if Louis was saying what he thought he was saying. But he knew he couldn’t. He knew he had absolutely no right to even bring it up. All he could do was sit there and wait for Louis to say the words himself, to _hope_ Louis would say the words himself.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” Louis’ voice cracked as he said the words, tears finally escaping from his eyes. Harry was certain his heart had never hurt as much as it did right then and there. Seeing Louis cry was something he never wanted to see happen, and he knew that if given the opportunity he’d make sure it never happened again. “I don’t know if I can I spend the rest of my life feeling like this.”

Harry wrapped both of his arms around Louis, pulling him close. He never wanted to let go. He’d known Louis for such a short amount of time, but he wanted nothing more than to take away all of his pain and spend the rest of his life making him happy. Louis’ laugh was contagious, maybe even the most infectious thing Harry had ever witnessed. He’d do anything to make sure he heard it every day for the rest of his life.

_God, he was in way too fucking deep._

“I don’t know what to do,” Louis repeated as he rested his head against Harry’s chest. “I’m four days away from possibly the biggest mistake of my life and I have no idea what to do.”

Harry wanted to scream at him, wanted to beg him not to go through with it. He wanted to show Louis all the ways he was better for him, all of the ways he’d make him a million times happier than Eleanor did. “Can you postpone it a bit? Give yourself some more time to think about what you want?” Harry was disappointed in himself for not saying what he really wanted to say. He didn’t know what to do at this point, he didn’t know if he even had a right to fight for Louis.

“I don’t want to postpone it,” Harry sucked in a sharp pain at Louis’ words. “I just want to cancel the whole fucking thing.”

 _So do it, please just fucking do it._ Harry thought the words but didn’t say them out loud. Just because Louis was teetering with the idea of cancelling his wedding didn’t mean he wanted to be with Harry. It didn’t mean anything for Harry at all. But it would mean everything _to_ Harry.

“You’re easily the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Harold,” Louis said softly as he lifted his head off Harry’s chest and took his face in between his two hands. “I’ve never felt so much like myself as I do when I’m with you. I don’t know how I’ve gone my whole life without you.”

 _I love you. I love you. I love you._ Harry wanted to blurt the words out so fucking bad, but he held his tongue. He knew it was too soon, he knew it would freak Louis out, and the last thing he wanted was to scare him away. “You have me,” Harry whispered as he inched his face closer to Louis’, their noses brushing against one another. “You have me for as long as you want me.”

 

*            *             *

 

It took Louis a few minutes to remember where he was when he woke up the next morning. He was wrapped up in Harry, their limbs intertwined and a head of curls laying on his chest. It took even longer for Louis to remember why he was waking up in Harry’s bed in the first place, but then the fight he’d had with Eleanor came rushing back to him. She’d accused him of cheating, she’d basically insinuated that she had zero trust in him, and then he’d stormed out of the house, cancelling the wedding the only thing on his mind. But now? Now he wasn’t sure of anything.

He wanted to be happy, and it was so painfully obvious that the only time he’d been happy in the past several years had been the last few days he’d spent with Harry. Louis had never dreamt that he’d be waking up in some other guy’s bed, his lips still swollen from the kisses they’d shared before falling asleep holding each other. But here he was. Harry had made his heart ache with happiness, and now Louis was more confused than ever before.

He reached over the bed side table and grabbed his phone, moving as little as possible so that he wouldn’t wake Harry. Louis and Eleanor had stopped cuddling in bed years ago, and having another body attached to him felt foreign, but Louis would be lying if he said it wasn’t the best feeling in the world. Harry was warm and his arms strong, and Louis felt safe. Louis hadn’t felt safe in what felt like an eternity.

His phone was filled with notifications. Countless missed calls from his sister and Eleanor and even more frantic messages. Louis felt his heart sink as he listened to the first voicemail Eleanor left just moments after Louis had stormed out of their argument. Her voice filled his ears and he felt a pang of guilt rush through him as he recognized the sound of her sniffling back tears.

“Louis,” Eleanor cried through his name. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just so stressed out. Baby, we’re days away from the wedding, it’s finally here. Please don’t say that it’s over. Please come home. I love you.”

He screwed his eyes shut as his phone started to play the next voicemail, this one from his younger sister, Lottie. “Lou, El just called me. She’s really upset, said something about you calling off the wedding? What’s going on? I just want to make sure you’re okay. I love you. Call me back.”

He listened to the next five messages that Eleanor had left, spanning from late last night to just a half an hour before Louis had woken up. She sounded like she hadn’t slept at all. Her voice was defeated and empty, and she was no longer sniffling back tears. Louis had done this. Louis had hurt her so bad that she’d stayed awake all night to fix things, and he hadn’t even had the decency to call her back. He’d let her think that they were really over, that the wedding was off and he wasn’t coming back. But the thing was, was that no matter how angry he’d been last night and no matter how intent he’d been to cancel the wedding, Louis still had no idea what he wanted. He had a woman who was counting on him. Eleanor had stood by his side for eight years, and no matter how much things had changed – no matter how much _they_ had changed, he couldn’t just walk out on her. He couldn’t just end their relationship because he’d met some boy at a club. He couldn’t just choose Harry over her. It wasn’t right, was it? They’d planned an entire wedding, they’d sent out invitations to all of their family and friends, they were saying _I do_ in three fucking days. Surely some perfect, curly-haired twenty-year-old wasn’t a good enough reason to end everything?

Louis’ head was spinning and he was finding it hard to catch his breath. He hadn’t felt like this since the first time he’d performed on stage in front of thousands of people, and he was fairly certain his chest was going to explode from the sheer panic that was running rampant inside of him. He pushed Harry’s body off of him, not even paying attention as Harry stirred awake from all of the commotion, and started to step into his jeans. He was searching the bedroom for his t-shirt when Harry’s voice finally broke through the noise in Louis’ head.

“Where’re you going?”

Louis froze, his shirt hanging loosely in his hands. He didn’t dare turn to face Harry. He knew that the second Harry saw his face that he’d know what was going on, and the last thing he wanted was to admit his cowardice.

“Lou?” Harry’s voice was more awake, his question more direct.

Louis turned around slowly, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he looked at Harry, who was sitting up in the bed, his hair going in a million directions. “I’m uh, I’m just...” he couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. He was a fucking coward and he knew it.

“You’re going back to her, aren’t you?”

Louis didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if there was anything he _could_ say to make any of this better, to make any of this not hurt as much as it did. “I have to.”

“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it,” Harry’s voice cracked with emotion as he ran his hands through his hair, pulling on the ends of his curls.

“Harry,” Louis sighed as he slipped his shirt over his head. “It’s not that easy, I can’t just walk away from my life.”

Harry laughed at Louis words, sending a sharp stab through Louis’ chest. “What life, Louis? You showed up at my door last night telling me that you’re fucking miserable, that I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you. How could that have possibly changed in the last twelve hours?”

“I was confused,” Louis was a shit person, he knew that, but he didn’t know any other way to get himself out of the mess he’d created.

Harry ran his palms over his face before he dared to look at Louis again. His eyes were heavy with disappointment, with sadness. “You were confused,” it wasn’t a question. He was simply repeated Louis words, trying to understand what he could have possibly meant. “Were you confused when you were fucking me yesterday too? Were you confused when you were begging me to come all over you?”

“Harry...” Louis begged him to stop. He _needed_ him to stop.

Harry shook his head, fisting the duvet in his hands as he tried to control his emotions. “Answer me, god dammit!”

Louis took a deep breath. He never wanted to hurt Harry. The last thing he’d wanted was to hurt the beautiful boy in front of him. “Yeah,” he finally whispered. “I was confused. I had no idea what I wanted.”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, but any attempt he’d made to fight back the tears failed. “You promised me,” he stated through his tears. “You promised me that I wasn’t just some experiment to you. You promised me this was real.”

Louis wanted to disappear through the floor of Harry’s bedroom. How was he supposed to walk away? How was he supposed to act as if Harry meant nothing? “It was real.”

“Then why the hell are you doing this?”

Louis slowly walked to Harry’s bed until he was sitting on the edge of it. He cringed as Harry backed himself against the headboard, as far away from Louis as he could get. “Harry, this isn’t easy for me.”

Harry laughed again as he frantically wiped at his tears. “Sure seems like you’re handling this just fine to me.”

Louis wanted to reach out, he wanted to take Harry’s hand and tell him how much the last few days meant to him, but instead he placed his hands on his knees, willing them to stay still and not reach for Harry. “My whole family is coming here tomorrow to get ready for the wedding. I can’t just call them up and be like ‘oh mum, I’m really sorry but there isn’t going to be a wedding’. What am I supposed to tell her? That I met some boy and he helped me realize that I’m...”

“Gay,” Harry finished the sentence when Louis stumbled over the word.

“I’m not gay,” it was such an innate reaction that Louis didn’t even process the words before they left his mouth. He’d said the exact same thing over and over to Zayn for the past few days, but he’d forgotten that they’d mean something totally different to Harry.

“Wow,” Harry took a deep breath before moving off the bed and pulling a pair of joggers over his tight boxer briefs. “Get out, yeah? Get the fuck out.”

“Harry, I didn’t mean...”

Harry was shaking his head and storming towards the bedroom door. He swung it open, holding it as he waited for Louis to leave. “You meant it, you clearly fucking meant it.”

“What do you want from me? Did you think I was just going to drop everything and change my entire life? Did you think that us sleeping together was going to make me have some fucking epiphany and completely change who I am?”

Harry was well aware of the fact that Niall and Liam were sitting in the living room playing FIFA for the umpteenth time, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care who heard him yell at Louis. All he cared about was the way his heart was being ripped to shreds by the blue-eyed boy he’d fallen for way too quickly. “You have no idea who you fucking are,” Harry spat.

Louis finally made his way off the bed, but instead of walking out the bedroom door he stopped in front of Harry. “Maybe I don’t,” Louis fought back. “But you expected me to figure it all out so fucking fast.”

Harry met Louis’ eyes, and Louis hated himself for how deflate his favourite green eyes were. “I would have waited a lifetime for you and you know it. I would have hidden in the fucking closet with you until you were ready to come out. I didn’t give a shit what you told people or how long it took for you to admit it to yourself. All I wanted was you.”

Louis didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to wrap Harry in his arms and take all of the terrible things he’d said back. But he couldn’t. “I’m sorry.”

Harry laughed again, but it fell flat when the tears started to fall from his eyes once again. “What do you have to be sorry for? You had your fun, you experimented a little and now you know you aren’t gay. Congratufuckinglations. I hope you have a nice life. Now get the fuck out of my flat.”

Louis hung his head in shame as he walked out of Harry’s bedroom. He was met by Niall and Liam who were standing in the living room, both of them glaring in Louis’ direction. “Guys...”

Niall put his hand up to stop him before he could say anything more. “Get the fuck out before we kick your ass.”

It was official. Louis was scum. God, maybe he was even worse than scum. He tried to hold himself together, but as he walked down the stairs of the building and towards his car, he lost it. He couldn’t keep it all in, and he certainly couldn’t stop the tears that were now streaming down his face. He couldn’t get the image of Harry’s face out of his mind. He’d been so angry and so hurt, and Louis didn’t know how he was supposed to live the rest of his life knowing he’d hurt the best person he’d ever met. He was a coward. He was a fucking coward and he didn’t deserve to even know what it felt like to be loved by Harry. He knew he’d regret this day for the rest of his life. He’d taken the safe road, he’d chosen to spend the rest of his life living a lie instead of being true to who he really was. How was he supposed to live with himself now?

*            *            *

“I should’ve known better,” Harry said as he rested his head on Niall’s shoulder. It had been a couple of hours since Louis had ripped out his heart and stomped all over it. Niall and Liam had given him space and waited patiently until he’d emerged from his bedroom, his eyes bright red from crying.

“I should’ve actually kicked his ass,” Niall said as he put his arm around Harry’s shoulders. Harry was sandwiched between Niall and Liam on the sofa, a pint of ice cream and three spoons sitting in Harry’s lap.

“I hope this doesn’t make things weird for you and Zayn,” Harry said to Liam as he dug his spoon into the strawberry ice cream.

Liam shook his head. “Don’t even worry about that, mate. Zayn and I will be fine. But I am seriously questioning his choosing of friends right now.”

“I wish I could hate him,” Harry whined, referring to Louis.

“I fucking despise him,” Niall said through a mouthful of ice cream.

Harry shrugged. “I think I love him too much to hate him right now. I’m sure the hate will start kicking in soon.”

Maybe he should have told him. Harry couldn’t help but wonder if Louis would have stayed if he’d known Harry was in love with him. Maybe Louis would have had a harder time walking away from him if he’d known how serious Harry’s feelings were. Harry would have gone through hell and back for Louis. He would have stood by Louis’ side through it all – through coming out to his parents, through whatever happened in the media. He would have been there for it all. He would have spent the rest of his life making Louis happy. But he couldn’t do that now. Louis had chosen to be miserable, to stay hidden from the rest of the world. He’d chosen to forget all about Harry and pretend like nothing had happened between them. There was no way Harry had made it all up in his head. There was no way that Louis was that good of an actor. His feelings for Harry had been so obvious. But Harry had been wrong about people before. He’d always seen the best in people, almost to a fault. And now he was paying the price. He got to sit there and cry over Louis while Louis went off and got married. He got to be all alone, yet again, while Louis married the woman who apparently made him miserable. Harry wasn’t quite sure which one was worse at this point.

They could have made each other so fucking happy.

*           *         *

Louis had driven around aimlessly since leaving Harry’s flat. He didn’t know where to go. He wasn’t ready to go home yet, he wasn’t ready to face the life he’d decided for himself. He’d thought about going to Zayn’s, but he knew the second he saw his best friend that he’d break down even more. He was so ashamed of himself, and he knew that Zayn would be too, even if he didn’t actually say it out loud.

He stopped his Porsche somewhere on the outskirts of the city. He’d been so in his head that he wasn’t even quite sure where he was or what route he’d even taken to get there. He pulled his cellphone out of his jacket pocket and dialed Lottie’s number.

“Louis?” his little sister’s voiced filled the line. “Where are you?”

Lottie and Eleanor had been close since Louis had started dating Eleanor, and he was sure that his fiancée had probably been keeping Lottie up to date on Louis’ disappearance since the night before. “Uh, I’ve just been driving around.”

“All night?”

Louis took a deep breath. “Lottie, I need to talk to you.”

“What’s going on, Lou? Is the wedding off? El is worried sick about you and mum has been asking why you haven’t called her back but I didn’t want to worry...”

“Lottie, shut up. Please,” she never knew when to stop talking, it had been Louis’ pet peeve since they’d been little, which was funny because it was a trait they had in common. “I cheated on her.”

For once there was dead silence from the other end of the phone. He could imagine his sister and how she was probably sitting at the kitchen island, a cup of tea in front of her and her jaw hanging open from what he’d just said. “You what?”

“I cheated on her.”

Lottie stayed silent for another minute as she processed the information. “With who?”

Louis wasn’t sure if he was ready to provide the answer to her question just yet. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Was it with Millie?”

Louis rolled his eyes. He’d had enough of people believing stupid rumours that the tabloids always started about him. “For fuck sakes, I didn’t sleep with Millie.”

“Okay, okay,” Lottie sighed. “What’s going on? Are you not happy? Do you not want to get married?”

 _No and no_. “I’m fine, Lots. It was just a mistake. I didn’t know what I wanted but I do now.”

“Louis,” Lottie’s voice was careful, almost as if she knew her brother was lying. “You don’t sound okay, or happy.” _Ding. Ding. Ding._

“You’d tell me if you weren’t okay, right?”

Lottie’s question brought tears back to louis’ eyes. She knew. She knew he wasn’t okay but she was letting him off the hook. “Of course, yeah. Look, lots, I gotta go. Thanks for checking in. I promise everything’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“You bet. I love you, Lou.”

Louis said goodbye to his sister and hung up the phone. He clenched the steering wheel until his knuckles were turning white. Why was everything such a bloody mess? How had he managed even be in this situation? Why had he even fallen for Harry’s flirtatious smile at the club that night?

Because Harry was easily the most amazing person he’d ever met. Because Louis had never really believed in soulmates or fate or any of that garbage until he found himself standing at the urinal beside the prettiest set of jade eyes he’d ever seen. He wished he could be selfish for the first time in his life. He wished he could reach out and take what he really wanted. But instead he’d turned his back on fate, turned his back on the soulmate he never knew he even had, and chose to please everyone else instead of being happy. He’d be married in 72 hours and probably even more miserable than he already was, but at least everyone else would be happy.

Everyone except him and Harry.

Life was truly a bitch sometimes. 

*

He’d left Harry’s three hours ago, but Louis still wasn’t ready to go home and face the decision he’d made. He sent a short text to Eleanor, a brief apology for storming out and a promise to be home soon and then raced over to Zayn’s. He needed to talk to the one other person who knew about Harry, who knew about everything. He needed a shoulder to cry on. 

Louis had seen Zayn angry plenty of times before, but the look on Zayn’s face as he opened his front door could have sent Louis six feet underground. “Hi,” Louis said cautiously as he stepped through the doorway. 

“Hi,” Zayn replied coolly as he turned his back and walked further into the house.

“Is it a bad time?” Louis wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but as he followed his friend into the kitchen he couldn’t help but feel unwanted.

Zayn shrugged his shoulders as he continued to chop the bell peppers that were placed on a cutting board in front of him. “Depends on who you’re asking, I think. Harry would probably say it’s a bad time.”

Louis heart fell at that very moment. Okay, so Zayn already knew, but surely he’d be there for him? Surely Zayn would want to comfort his best friend? “I didn’t, I...” Louis stumbled over his words as Zayn glared at him from the other side of the island. 

“You didn’t break his heart?” Zayn raised an eyebrow, but when he realized he wasn’t going to get a response he continued. “You shouldn’t have started something if you were just going to marry Eleanor anyways. You never should have let him believe he had a chance.”

“I know that,” Louis cried out as he leaned against the island, his hands flat against the marble surface. “Fuck, Z, I fucking know that, okay?”

Zayn didn’t show any sign of letting up anytime soon. “Liam called me. My boyfriend had to call me up to tell me that my best friend ripped his friend’s heart out like it didn’t even matter. He said he’s never seen Harry this bad, that he’s a proper mess. Are you proud of that?”

“Of course not!” Louis hadn’t expected this, he hadn’t expected Zayn to lay it all out for him. He knew he was a shit person, but he’d hoped Zayn would at least try to make him believe otherwise. “What am I supposed to do? I’m getting married for fuck sakes.”

Zayn shrugged again before turning his attention back to the vegetables in front of him. “You could have called it off. You could have been honest with yourself for one fucking second. You don’t owe her anything, Louis.”

“I cheated on her. I cheated on her with a fucking guy. She doesn’t even know that I’m...”

“Just say it,” Zayn urged. “It’s not some dirty word. Nobody’s going to smite you if you say it out loud.”

“I’m not...” Louis didn’t have a chance to finish his well-rehearsed line before Zayn was interrupting him. 

“But you are!” Zayn yelled, slamming his knife down on the counter. “I’ve never seen you as happy as you were with Harry, and thinking back it makes so much sense now. What does it matter? Why are you so afraid of admitting it to yourself?”

Louis took a deep breath. “Because then it’s real,” he admitted in a whisper. “If I admit that I’m gay then I’m admitting that I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life. If I admit that I’m gay then I’m admitting that I probably just walked away from the love of my life.”

“Louis,” Zayn’s eyes were filled with emotion as he rounded the island and put his hands on either side of his friend’s shoulders. “Nobody is forcing you to go through with it. You can end it all right now if that’s what you want.”

“I’m not ready,” Louis explained as tears ran down his face. “I’m not ready for everything to change, for everyone to know. Bloody hell, I only _just_ figured out who I am. I’m _still_ figuring out who I am. And the second it gets out there the rest of the world will know too. I don’t want that, not yet. I’m just not ready for my whole life to change.”

“You can take all the time you need, but that doesn’t mean you have to get married. You can end things with Eleanor and take some time to figure shit out.”

Realistically and rationally, Louis knew Zayn was right. It made perfect sense. But Louis wasn’t thinking rationally or realistically. He was thinking about the tens of thousands of pounds he’d spent on this wedding. He was thinking about how excited his mum was to watch her oldest child get married. He was thinking about how Eleanor had talked about nothing but the wedding since they’d gotten engaged. Louis had always been a people pleaser by nature, and he didn’t know how to just shut that part of him off. He didn’t know how he was supposed to walk away from the person who’d given him the last eight years of her life. Sure, things with Eleanor weren’t what he wanted. Sure, maybe he was miserable. But it wasn’t just Eleanor’s fault. He held some of the blame. Louis was man enough to know that he’d let things change, that he’d taken a backseat to their relationship for the past few years. He couldn’t just walk away from the person who was counting on him the most.

Even if that being with her wasn’t what he wanted – not even close.

“I have to do this, Z,” Louis finally said as he hung his head in shame. “I know you don’t understand, but I have to do it.”

Zayn stood in silence for a couple of moments, his hands still squeezing Louis’ shoulders. “You’re right, I don’t get it, but I’m here for you no matter what. You’re my best mate. And if that means I have to stand beside you in some church and watch you make the biggest mistake of your life than that’s what I’ll do,” he took a deep breath before he wrapped his arms around Louis’ body, holding him close. “I’ll be there for you ‘til the end mate. I just hope one day you’ll let yourself be happy.”

Louis chuckled as he let his tears fall onto Zayn’s black t-shirt. “Maybe one day.”

*

Eleanor was asleep when Louis finally slipped through the door of the house they’d shared for the last three years. As he made his way through the silent home, he became acutely aware of the emotional rollercoaster he’d but her through the last twenty-four hours. There were take away boxes scattered across the kitchen counters, a garbage full of used Kleenex and a tear-stained wedding magazine on the coffee table in the living room. Louis hated himself for what he’d done to her. But as much as he hated himself for hurting Eleanor like that, he hated himself for what he’d done to Harry even more. He’d been a wrecking ball in Harry’s life. He’d swooped in and ruined everything, leaving disaster in his wake. How was he supposed to live with himself after everything he’d done? How was he supposed to look in the mirror every day and not think about the way he’d completely destroyed the one person who’d ever made him feel one hundred percent complete?

How was he supposed to spend the rest of his life pretending as though he hadn’t ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him?

“Louis?” a quiet whisper of a voice broke Louis from his thoughts. He turned towards the bedroom door where Eleanor was standing. She was leaning against the doorway, wearing one of his old ratty t-shirts and a pair of his boxers.

“Hi,” Louis whispered back as he found all the courage and strength he had left and moved towards her, pulling her into an embrace. “I’m so sorry. I love you,” and as the words made their way past his lips, he closed his eyes and pretended he was holding a curly-haired boy instead of the woman he was about to marry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me...I promise Louis and Harry's story isn't over yet.


	5. Chapter Five

Harry woke up with a pounding headache. As if his life couldn’t get any worse, his brain was literally trying to hemorrhage out of his skull. It was getting closer and closer to dooms day, and no matter how many times he’d promised himself that he’d be okay, he wasn’t. He’d managed to sleep through the entire day after Louis had walked out of his life, which meant that the wedding was that much closer. Louis was getting married tomorrow, and Harry wanted to throw up.

Actually, Harry wanted to hide under his duvet until tomorrow was said and done. He wanted to hibernate like a bear and wake up when everything was over.

He wanted Louis to get married and spend the rest of his life regretting the choices he’d made.

That was a lie. Harry wanted Louis to change his mind and come running back to him. All Harry wanted was Louis. But he knew he had to get used to not getting what he wanted. Life had never been fair before, why would it all of a sudden start working in his favour now?

He reached for his cellphone, taking a deep breath before hitting the unlock button to check for any messages. His heart sank when the screen was blank. He’d gotten his hopes up for the second day in a row, hoping that Louis would message him and take everything back. But there were no messages, no missed calls, and no Louis begging for forgiveness. Everything was still a mess.

He tapped on his screen until he’d managed to open his texting conversation with Louis. He’d almost deleted the whole string of messages a million times in the last 48 hours, but he could never actually bring himself to do it. He read them over and over again. He basically had the whole thing memorized by now. He wanted to remember every little thing Louis had ever said to him. He wanted to remember what it was like to be the center of Louis’ attention. He wanted to remember what it felt like before his heart had shattered within him.

When Harry finally got out of bed, he realized that he was alone in the flat. He’d spent the last countless hours promising Niall and Liam that he was okay (which was a lie), but now that he was all alone, Harry was sure he was going to crumble. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with himself. He couldn’t bring himself to open a textbook; he could barely concentrate on the television, let alone philosophy. He hated himself for letting a boy ruin him like this, but he’d thought Louis was different – he’d _hoped_ Louis was different.

Harry had never been so wrong about something in his entire life.

World-1, Harry-0.

He felt like a zombie as he sank into the couch and stared at the television screen, an old episode of _Friends_ occupying the space. He watched as Chandler and Monica tried to keep up their secret relationship, stealing kisses any chance they got. Harry groaned and flicked through the channels until settling on the weather network. There couldn’t possibly be anything about the weather that could remind him that the love of his life was gone, that he’d just up and left like it all had meant nothing.

He zoned in and out, catching glimpses and snippets of the upcoming weather report. He unlocked his phone, opening it back up to the conversation with Louis. Harry sighed as he looked at the last message that had been sent between them – the smiley face and thumbs up Louis had sent before surprising Harry by showing up at his flat. The day they’d had sex. Harry felt the tears roll down his cheeks as the memories flooded his mind. It was painful. It was all too painful. He pounded his thumbs across the touch screen, holding his breath as he typed out a message.

**To: Louis**

**I hate you so much.**

He hit the delete button, replacing the word “hate” with “love”. He finally exhaled before deleting the entire message and starting over altogether.

**To: Louis**

**I wish I could convince you to choose me instead.**

Harry sighed, unsatisfied with the words he’d typed. He deleted them before starting again.

**To: Louis**

**You broke my heart. Wanna know what the sad thing is? I’d take you back in a heartbeat. Fucking pathetic, yeah? Have a great wedding. I bet you look amazing in a tux. Fuck, I hate you so fucking much. That’s not even close to being true. Do you believe in soulmates? I think you may have been it for me.**

Harry read the words over and over again. It was everything he’d been thinking, everything he _wanted_ to say, even if it wasn’t worded in some sort of beautiful way. But there was no way he could send it, there was no way he could open himself up to whatever Louis had to say in return. He hit ‘cancel’ before locking his phone and tossing it on the cushion beside him. He needed to move on. He needed to forget about Louis and the wedding that was happening in twenty-four hours. He needed to realize that he deserved better than being somebody’s idea of fun before settling down. He needed to find someone who would love him as much as he loved them.

He needed to eat another hundred pints of ice-cream and cry for another century before he’d be ready to do any of those things. Harry had known Louis for a millisecond, and yet his entire being was so entrenched in him. He’d gotten his hopes up, he’d let himself believe that just because Louis showed up at his door claiming to be miserable, that he’d leave his fiancée and choose Harry. Harry actually thought he was the exception. Apparently he’d learned nothing from Scarlett Johansson. Leave it to Harry to miss the most important message in a rom-com.

 Apparently he’d failed to realize that _Louis just wasn’t that into him._

Harry was shaken from his thoughts by a knock at the door. His heart immediately jumped as he made his way to the door, praying and hoping that he was going to find Louis standing on the other side of the threshold. He could forget everything that had happened if Louis would just come back to him. He dared a peek through the peephole, his heart dropping instantaneously. Louis wasn’t standing on the other side of the door. Louis was probably at home kissing his fiancée and laughing with his mum. Louis probably hadn’t even thought about Harry since walking out the door.

Harry took a deep breath and pulled the door open, giving Zayn a small (and rather fake) smile as he stood aside and let him in the flat. “Liam’s not here.”

Zayn dug his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I know. I’m here to see you, actually.”

Harry’s ears perked at Zayn’s admission, curiosity getting the best of him. Zayn was Louis’ best friend, but he also happened to be dating one of Harry’s best mates. It made the whole situation rather intertwined and awkward. “What’s up?”

“Could we sit maybe?” Zayn asked as he moved his head in the direction of the sofa. He was uncomfortable, it was written all over his face. “I just wanted to uh, can we talk for a minute?”

Harry nodded his head, following Zayn to the couch and taking a seat beside him. He waited for Zayn to say something, to say anything.

“How are you doing?” Zayn asked the question slowly – carefully, as if he could see Harry’s shattered heart right through his chest.

Harry shrugged. “M’fine.”

Zayn narrowed his eyes, not believing Harry for a second. “Look, what Louis did...”

“We don’t have to talk about it.”  
Zayn sighed, ignoring Harry’s words. “It wasn’t okay, what he did wasn’t okay. But he’s kind of fucked up right now, you know? It was like the worst possible time for you to meet him.”

Harry snorted. “He’s the Webster’s definition of fucked up.”

“I know he hurt you. I’m not trying to negate that. But he’s not a bad guy. He’s just confused and doesn’t see a way out.”

“I gave him a way out.”  
Zayn sighed again. “I know, but he needs time to figure it all out, to adjust.”

“He’s not giving himself any time,” Harry argued. “He’s getting married tomorrow.”

Zayn shrugged. “It’s 2017, like 50% of couples get divorced.”

Harry ran his hands over his face, trying to wipe away his frustration. “Is that what you want for him? Don’t you want him to be happy?”

“Of course I do,” Zayn countered. “But he’s also my best mate and I have to support whatever decision he makes. He needs someone in his corner.”

“I was in his corner.”

Zayn sighed again, apparently that was the only reaction he was capable of. “Harry, he needs to figure this out on his own. I just, I wanted to come by and just tell you not to give up on him.”

Harry stared at the other boy, not understanding a single word that was coming from his mouth. “I’m not going to fight for him, Zayn. He made it perfectly clear he doesn’t want me. I’m done.”

*           *            *

Louis’ house was overrun with family, both his and Eleanor’s. Louis felt suffocated. He felt as if he was being choked to death by last minute wedding planning and it was overwhelming. He was so fucking overwhelmed. He couldn’t help but notice the way that Lottie had been looking at him since the second she’d arrived, the way her eyes were always filled with concern, her eyebrows arched in curiosity. He tried everything in his power to avoid her, to avoid having the conversation he knew she would force him into. He didn’t want to talk about his affair ( _Harry_ , oh how he missed Harry) or the way that she seemed to see right through his lie about being happy. He just needed to get through the next twenty-four hours. He needed this all to be over with, no matter what the end result was. He felt like he was on the brink of having a panic attack, and he just needed it all to stop.

“Hey,” Lottie’s voice broke through Louis’ thoughts. He looked up to see her standing in the doorway of his office, her eyes still laced with concern. “Can I come in?”

Louis nodded his head and watched as she closed the door behind her before walking over and perching herself up on his desk.

“You’re not okay, Lou. I can tell.”

He shrugged his shoulders, sitting back in his chair. “M’fine, Lots. I’m great in fact.”

“Stop lying to me.”

Louis let out a deep breath of air, trying to rid his body of all the negative emotions that were swimming through his veins. “Do you see how happy Eleanor is?”

His sister nodded her head. “I’m not worried about Eleanor, I’m worried about you. Something is going on, and I don’t know if it has something to do with girl you slept with or...”

“It was a guy.”

Everything seemed to stop as the words left his mouth. Louis was fairly certain that time itself had come to a stop. He wasn’t quite sure what had inspired him to admit the truth to Lottie, but here he was, spilling his deepest and darkest secret. He stared at his hands as he waited for her to respond, to react, to say _anything._

“Oh okay,” Lottie finally said. “Well, I just think that maybe it wasn’t just some little fling for you. For someone who’s about to get married, you’re pretty mopey. You’re almost acting like you just had your heart stomped on.”  
Louis’ head was spinning. Why wasn’t she freaking out? Why wasn’t she digging for more information? Why wasn’t the world coming to an end? “I just told you I slept with a guy.”

Lottie nodded. “Yeah, I know, I heard you.”

“Why the hell aren’t you freaking out?”

She shrugged. “Why would I? It’s 2017 Louis, if you want to sleep with a guy, sleep with a guy. The gender of a person doesn’t make a single difference when it comes to love.”

“I don’t love him.”

Lottie furrowed her eyebrows. “Then why are you so sad?”

Louis sighed as his mind filled with memories of Harry – of his laughter, his carefree nature, his perfection. “I dunno. I hurt him. I hurt him so fucking bad.”

“Are you more upset about hurting him, or losing him?”

Louis stilled at her question. He had no idea how he was supposed to answer it. “Both.”  
Lottie rolled her eyes. “Can you just give a straight answer for once in your fucking life?”

“Jesus,” Louis groaned as he buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know, Lottie. I’m fucking lost, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Call it off.”

Louis removed his hands from his face as he processed her words. “Are you really telling me to call off my wedding right now? It’s less than twenty-four hours away. I have a girl who’s kinda counting on me to be there.”

Lottie tilted her head, taking a moment to think about her brother’s words. “I think you’re scared, Louis. I think you fell for a guy and it scares the shit out of you. I think you would have called this wedding off if you’d fallen for another girl. I think you’re worried about what everyone will think of you if you start dating men, and I think that’s utter bullshit. We’d love you no matter what, Lou.”

Louis wanted to cry. He wanted to break down and sob. He’d never actually thought that his family would turn on him if he decided he was gay, or bisexual, or anything else other than straight. But it wasn’t his family he was worried about. He was worried about everyone else – the fans, the paps, the media in general. Maybe he was more worried about himself, how he’d feel about himself. He’d always been insecure, but what he was feeling was so much more than insecurity. He was terrified of the fact that he had no idea who or what he really was. It was just so much easier to act as though nothing had changed. He’d never considered going into acting before, but apparently he was so good that he could win an Oscar for best actor. His whole life was a fucking script at this point.

“Will you hate me if I get married tomorrow?” Louis asked in a whisper.

Lottie didn’t respond right away. She hopped off the desk and wrapped her arms around her brother, pulling him into a tight hug. “Louis, I’d never hate you. I love you no matter what. I just want you to be happy.

“I’m happy,” Louis had told this very same lie countless times before that he was starting to think that maybe it was the truth. He’d been happy with Eleanor once, he could be happy with her again. “I’m happy, I promise.”

*

“I can’t wait to see you in the church tomorrow,” Eleanor cooed as she wrapped her arms around Louis’ neck, drawing him closer.

Louis was saying goodbye to everyone before heading off to Zayn’s for the night. Eleanor had insisted that they couldn’t spend the night before their wedding in the same house, and Louis had practically jumped at the opportunity to get out of his family-packed home. He needed quiet. He needed to be able to sit back and think about everything that was going on in his life. But most of all, he needed to get away from Lottie’s concerned looks and the way she kept trying to pull him away from everyone else and talk him into cancelling the wedding. He just needed to get away.

“I can’t wait to see you either,” Louis replied to his fiancée as he instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the end of her nose. “It’s at 11, right?”

Eleanor slapped his shoulder at his attempt of a joke. “If you’re late, I swear to god I will make you dance with my nan at the reception.”

Louis groaned. Eleanor’s grandmother had a tendency of pinching Louis’ bum every time she was near him. “I’ll be the one in the tux beside the minister,” he said as he kissed her lips gingerly. “Meet you at the altar, love.”

They kissed again before Louis hugged his mum, Lottie and the rest of his family. Once he was sitting behind the wheel of his Porsche, he finally let out a breath of air that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in. He’d felt like a fraud when he’d been saying goodbye to Eleanor. He’d felt like some sort of imposter in his own home, in his own relationship. It wasn’t fair to her. It wasn’t fair for him to pretend like she was everything he wanted. But Louis was selfish, and he needed Eleanor in his life in order to keep hiding from reality – from his reality.

When Louis pulled up in front of Zayn’s, he was hit with the realization that Zayn’s flat felt more like home than his own house did. It was a depressing realization, really. Louis had spent the last several years building a home with Eleanor, and it had easily become one of his least favourite places in the world. He couldn’t blame it all on Eleanor, not really. He was just as much to blame for the way their relationship had been falling apart. He’d grown distant in the last few years. He’d spent more time on the road touring than with her, and it had taken its toll on them. Some days, Louis had the sense that they barely knew each other anymore. They’d become strangers – strangers that were about to be married. When did life get so complicated?

“Hey,” Zayn greeted as he opened the door to his flat, stepping aside so Louis could walk in. “Just got back from picking up our tuxes.”

Louis nodded his head in response. “Cool. Have you heard from the other guys? I haven’t texted them to make sure they’ve picked up theirs.”

“Yeah, talked to Daniel this morning. They’re all good to go too. They’re gonna come over tonight for a few drinks.”

Louis groaned. The last thing he wanted was to spend the night acting in front of his groomsmen. He wished he’d been able to talk Eleanor into keeping the wedding party small. Aside from Zayn, the rest of his groomsmen were guys that he could barely even tolerate. He was fairly certain they were only friends with him for the sheer fact that he was famous, and rich.

“I saw Harry today,” Zayn stated slowly and quietly as he followed Louis into the kitchen, where he was already reaching for a bottle of scotch and a glass from the bar.

Louis turned around quickly, eyes wide as he gaped at his best friend. “You what?”

Zayn took the bottle from Louis’ hand, pouring some of the alcohol into two separate glasses before passing one of them to Louis. “I went to his flat.”

Louis was gripping the glass so hard that he was sure it was going to shatter right then and there. “Why the fuck did you go to his flat?” He really wanted to ask how Harry was, but he figured Zayn would offer the information up willingly eventually. He wasn’t sure if he even really wanted to know. He couldn’t live with knowing he’d broken Harry’s heart.

Zayn took a sip from his glass before responding. “Well, he happens to live with my boyfriend.”

“Oh, so Liam’s your boyfriend now?”

Zayn shrugged, taking another drink. “Unlike you, I go for what I really want.”

Louis tilted his head back, downing the entire contents of his glass. He didn’t bother thanking Zayn when he refilled it. “Fuck off, yeah?”

“Do you want to know how he is?” Zayn sighed as Louis shrugged his shoulders in response. “He’s hurt, mate. You really did a number on him.”

Louis sat down on one of the barstools as he processed the information. The last thing he’d wanted to do was hurt Harry. Fuck, he was pretty sure he _loved_ Harry. But he’d done it. He’d ripped Harry’s heart out of his chest and stomped all over it. He’d hurt the nicest, most caring person he’d ever met, and Louis would never forget that. He’d never let himself forget it. He’d spend the rest of his life regretting the words he’d said to Harry.

“He’ll be okay, Lou,” Zayn offered as he sat down on the stool beside him. “He’ll get over it, meet someone new.”

Louis’ heart stopped at Zayn’s words. He didn’t want Harry to meet someone new. He wanted Harry all for himself, and that was the most selfish thing in the world. Harry deserved nothing more than happiness and to find someone who could give that to him, but every time Louis thought of Harry with someone else, he wanted to throw up.

“Are you gonna say anything, or just sit there and get drunk?”

Louis sighed deeply. “There’s nothing to say, Z. I know what I did. I know that I hurt him. I know I’m a shit person and I don’t deserve to be happy.”

Zayn wrapped an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “You’re not a shit person, Louis. You’re a good person, and that’s why you feel as bad about all this as you do, it’s the reason you’re marrying Eleanor. You’re trying to do the right thing.”

“Well, the right thing fucking sucks.”

They sat in silence, neither of them knowing what to say. Louis wanted to admit the truth, not just to Zayn, but also to himself. He wanted to admit that he was running scared, that he _knew_ he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life. He wanted to tell Zayn that all he wanted was Harry, that all he wanted was to feel the way Harry made him feel for the rest of his life.

“I think that maybe...” Louis stopped abruptly when there was a loud knock at Zayn’s door. He took a deep breath, almost relieved that he hadn’t been able to finish his sentence.

Zayn jumped up off his stool and made his way to the door, opening it to reveal Daniel and the other three groomsmen. Louis mentally prepared himself for the next few hours. He knew he had to play up being a happy groom, a man just about to marry the love of his life. If there was ever a time in his life when he needed to act like somebody he wasn’t, the time was now.

“Louis!” Daniel called as he entered the kitchen, placing a bottle of gin on the bar. “How’s the man of the hour?”  
Louis refilled his glass with scotch, taking a drink before answering his friend. “Great, just soaking up my last day of freedom.”

They all retreated to Zayn’s living room, lounging across the leather furniture, a football match playing on the television. Louis let the others do most of the talking, losing track of the conversation as he made sure that his glass was constantly full of scotch. He hadn’t planned on getting inebriated, but he didn’t think he could get through the evening without being drunk off his arse.

“Bet you’re looking forward to tomorrow night, yeah?” Daniel addressed Louis later that night.

Louis hadn’t quite realized just how drunk he was until he looked over at his “friend”, having to squint to not just see his face in a blur. “Why?”

Daniel laughed, and Louis wasn’t too drunk to miss the condescending tone. “I bet you’re banging hot fiancée will have a nice piece of lingerie for you to destroy.”

“Woah,” Zayn stated before Louis could say anything. “Kind of out of line, mate.”

Daniel turned to Zayn, a confused look on his face. “What? It’s true! Eleanor is fucking fit.”

Louis knew that things weren’t really okay, that he wasn’t really okay, when he wasn’t seething with jealousy and rage at the way Daniel was talking about Eleanor. He should have been mad, he should have been the one to address the issue, but he just didn’t really care. He looked at his phone, realizing that it was already almost midnight and that he needed to try to get a decent enough sleep before the wedding.

“I think it’s time to call it a night,” he announced as he stood up from the chair he’d been sitting in. “See you guys in the morning.”

They were all staying at Zayn’s so that they could get ready together in the morning. Louis was staying in the guestroom by himself while the others slept in the living room. He retreated to the guestroom, closing the door behind him and taking a deep breath. He was finally alone. He could finally just be by himself, something he’d never really given himself a chance to do. He’d been with Eleanor since he was eighteen years old, he’d never been single as an adult, and he hadn’t really realized how much he’d missed out on until it was too late.

Louis stripped down to his boxers and climbed into the queen-sized bed, sitting against the headboard. He unlocked his phone, pulling up his messages. He thought about texting Eleanor, but quickly changed his mind. He took a deep breath and opened his conversation with Harry instead. He reread all of the words they’d ever shared through text, and the deeper he got into it the more his heart ached. He didn’t even bother trying to hold back the tears. The alcohol that was coursing through his blood seemed to magnify his emotions, and Louis couldn’t hold back. He started typing, his vision blurry from both the alcohol and constant stream of tears.

**To: Harry**

**Hi**

It was two simple letters, one very simple word that felt safe enough for Louis to hit the send button. He watched as the status of the message turned to ‘delivered’. He waited and waited to see the three little bubbles show up on his screen, an indication that Harry had received the text and was writing back, but nothing happened. Louis counted to one hundred before typing again.

**To: Harry**

**Harry, I don’t knw what the rihgt thing to say is. Im so srry i’ll never forgve msyslf for what I did. I think I mght be in loaf wth you**

Louis reread his words before hitting send. He was so out of his mind in scotch that he wasn’t entirely sure if his message was even understandable, but he needed Harry to know the truth. He needed Harry to know that he meant everything to him.

When the bubbles didn’t show up again, Louis sighed and laid down in the bed, trying to force himself to forget about it and go to sleep. But he found himself checking his phone every few seconds, impatiently waiting for Harry to respond.

**To: Harry**

**Please don’t igore me. I lneed you**

This time, Louis didn’t even give Harry a chance to respond. He tapped on Harry’s contact information and hit the call button. He needed to hear his voice. He needed to tell Harry everything.

_He just needed Harry_.

*           *           *

Harry woke with a start, his ringtone playing out loudly from the bedside table next to him. He groggily reached for the device, trying to adjust his eyes to the light from the screen. His heart fell to his stomach when he finally comprehended the name on the screen. _Louis._

He didn’t even contemplate whether or not to answer it. He accepted the call and pressed the phone to his ear within seconds.

“Harry?” Louis’ voice slurred on the other end of the line. “Harry baby?”

“Lou,” Harry moved the phone from his ear to check the time. It was half past midnight and Louis sounded very much drunk. “You’re drunk.”

Louis laughed quietly. “Just a little bit.”

“Just a lot.”

Louis sighed, and Harry could hear him shuffling in whatever bed he was sleeping in. “You didn’t answer any of my texts.”

Harry checked his phone again, quickly reading through the three messages that had gone unread. “I was sleeping. You’re in loaf with me? What does that even mean?”

Louis was silent for a couple of seconds. “I think you know what it means.”

Harry stopped breathing, he was pretty sure his heart stopped beating altogether. Was Louis really admitting he was in love with him? Was this actually what was happening at 12:30 in the morning on the day of Louis’ wedding? “I want to hear you say it, Lou.”

“I don’t want to say it like this,” Louis said. “I’m drunk off my arse and I want the first time I say it to you to be special. I want to be able to kiss you afterwards. I want to be able to touch you, blow you, show you how much I really do loaf you.”

Harry couldn’t hold back the giggle at Louis’ ridiculous words. He didn’t want to laugh, he didn’t even want to be nice to Louis, but he just couldn’t help it. He’d missed him. It had only been a couple of days and Harry had felt so fucking incomplete without Louis in his life. “I can’t believe I missed you, you idiot.”

“I missed you too,” Louis breathed. “So fucking much. I miss you so fucking much, Harold.”

“How drunk are you right now?”

Louis paused, and Harry could almost see the expression that was probably painted across his face. “Oh, I only drank like a bottle of scotch and then some. Not drunk at all. Not even in the slightest.”

Harry laughed again, and he hated himself for being putty in Louis’ hands. He was supposed to be angry and hurt, he was supposed to refuse Louis’ phone call and spend the rest of his life remembering him as the guy who broke his heart. But he didn’t hate Louis, not even in the slightest. “You’re not going to make a very dashing groom tomorrow. You’ll probably puke all over her dress.”

Louis sighed. “Maybe if I do she’ll leave me.”

There was a long pause as the thought of Louis and Eleanor not getting married settled between them. Harry was playing with the edge of his duvet, the phone nestled between his cheek and shoulder. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he’d never really been good with words.

“You don’t have to do it, you know,” Harry whispered slowly, breaking the silence with one final plea.

Louis shuffled on the other end, and Harry could picture him wrapping the blankets tighter around his small frame. “I do, baby,” he finally said, his voice barely even audible. “I can’t explain it, I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I have to.”

“But you loaf me.”

Louis let out a small chuckle. “Of course I do, baby,” Harry closed his eyes at the pet name. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Louis calling him baby. “I know I’m making the biggest mistake of my life. I know that I really want to be with you, but it’s not that easy.”

“Lou,” Harry choked out the name, tears running down his face faster than he could wipe them away. “Lou, I love you. I love you more than you could ever know. I’ve never felt like this, I’ve never wanted to be with someone the way I want to be with you. Isn’t that enough for you?”

Louis was crying on the other end, both of their soft sobs and sniffles mixing together and filling the space. “Baby, it’s enough. It’s so much more than enough. But I, I’m not ready. I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready for everything in my life to change. I made a promise to her. I promised her I would love her. I promised her that I was hers, and I’ve broken that promise. I can’t break any more promises. I have to follow through with this, I owe her that much.”

“You broke your promise to me,” Harry said through tears.

Louis tried to even out his breathing, but the tears kept flowing. “You weren’t an experiment, Harry. You were the real thing, we were the real thing. If we’d met sooner, maybe it would be us standing in that church.”

Harry screwed his eyes shut at Louis’ words. The last thing he wanted to think about was all of the possibilities that existed for them, all of the _what ifs._ He didn’t want to think about the life they could have had. He didn’t want to think about hypotheticals, he just wanted the whole thing. “Pick me,” Harry hated himself for breaking, for basically begging for Louis’ love.

“What?”

“Forget it, yeah?”

“Baby, are you asking me to pick you?”

Harry sighed. “What does it matter, Lou? You’re not going to pick me anyways. You’re going to go sleep off the scotch, wake up and get dressed in your tux. You’re going to watch her walk down the aisle and say I do. You’re going to have your first dance and slice the cake. You’re going to go off to wherever you’re going on your honey moon and probably have babies. You’re going to forget all about me.”

“Harry...”  
“Forget it, okay?” Harry interrupted Louis before he could really say anything. “It’s over, it’s done. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I’m not going to forget you,” Louis said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You changed my life.”

Harry didn’t know what else to say, he didn’t know how else to make Louis change his mind. “Look, it’s late and I have work in the morning.”  
Louis sighed. “Oh, okay...” he trailed off. “Come tomorrow.”

Harry’s jaw came unhinged as he tried to process Louis’ request. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Come tomorrow, to the wedding. Please?”

Harry laughed at the sheer absurdity of Louis’ invitation. “Are you fucking insane? The last thing I want to do is watch my soulmate marry someone else. Fuck that. Besides, I said I have work.”

“Come to the reception,” Louis countered. “It’s an open bar. We’ll get proper wasted.”

Harry squeezed the bridge of his nose. He could already feel a migraine coming on. He couldn’t handle this, any of this. “Louis, I’m not coming to your fucking wedding, okay? Why would you think that’s something I’d want to do?”

“I just want to see you, please? I just want to kiss you one last time.”

And that was it, Harry was done. He couldn’t handle Louis anymore, especially drunk Louis. “I’m going now, okay? Take an aspirin and drink some water.”

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” Louis sniffled, and Harry couldn’t help but frown at the fact that Louis was still crying. “I’m so sorry for everything. I’ll never regret you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Goodnight, Louis.”

Harry ended the call before Louis could even say goodnight back. He couldn’t hear his voice anymore, he just couldn’t take it. They’d somehow managed to talk on the phone for forty-five minutes, and Harry was drained. He was so emotionally exhausted. His mind wouldn’t stop reeling, it wouldn’t stop playing over every single one of the words that had left Louis’ mouth. Harry had tried so hard to change Louis’ mind – to win him, to be the one Louis chose to spend his life with. But he’d lost. Harry never had a chance to begin with though, that much was obvious. Louis was trying to do the right thing, whatever the right thing was, and that certainly didn’t include Harry.

Harry curled up in a ball, hugging his knees to his chest as he let all his emotions out. He cried into his pillow, soaking the pillowcase with his tears. It was over. The too-short fling ( _romance_ ) he’d shared with Louis was over and there was no getting it back. Harry had offered Louis the world, and it still hadn’t been enough. He wasn’t enough. _Harry wasn’t enough._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me. Would love to hear some feedback! Love you all and I'll try to get another chapter up in the next week or so xx


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! School is so hectic right now, but I promise I'll keep updating (at least every two weeks or so)! 
> 
> I hope you guys like this beast. (it's almost 10,000 words!)

Louis woke up at 7 am, the alarm clock on his phone blaring, with the worst hangover he’d ever had. He felt around for his phone, finally finding it somewhere under the duvet. He shut the alarm off as fast as possible, groaning at the way his head was pounding. He’d been proper drunk last night, so drunk that he’d texted Harry. Oh god, so drunk that he’d _called_ Harry. He could remember every single word from their conversation. He could remember the way he’d referenced the fact that he was in love with Harry, in _loaf_ with Harry. He could remember the way Harry practically begged him to choose him over Eleanor. He already missed the sound of Harry’s voice and it had only been six hours since he’d last heard it. He was about to spend the rest of his life missing the sound of Harry’s voice.

_Good fucking morning._

When Louis finally got out of bed, he was greeted by his groomsmen. Daniel tried to persuade him to go out to some greasy diner for breakfast, but just the thought of food made Louis’ stomach churn. He needed coffee. Caffeine would solve everything.

Zayn joined him on the sofa, coffees in hand, once the others left for breakfast. “You kind of look like shit.”

Louis groaned before taking a sip from his mug. “Feel like it too,” he took another long drink before continuing. “Also, the next time we get smashed, you have to take my phone away from me.”

“Why?”

Louis shrugged, trying to play off the whole thing nonchalantly. “I may have called Harry.”

Zayn turned to Louis quickly, his eyes wide in shock. “Are you fucking serious? What did you say to him?”

“I told him I was in loaf with him.”

Zayn furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

“It was my stupid way of trying to tell him I’m in love with him.”

They let the words hang in the air for a moment before saying anything more. Louis hadn’t really admitted his true feelings for Harry out loud, hadn’t really said the _L word._ And yet here he was, just a few hours away from exchanging vows with Eleanor, and he was confessing his love for the twenty-year-old boy he’d met in the loo of some night club. He was in love with Harry. _Ugh, now what?_

“Is there still a wedding happening today?” Zayn asked.

Louis didn’t want to admit the answer to his friend’s question. He knew there shouldn’t be a wedding, he knew that the conversation he’d had in the middle of the night with Harry should have been a good enough sign that it was time to stop the charades. But Louis had never been good at taking hints or doing what was best for him. He just wanted to make the greatest amount of people happy. He was basically a modern-day Jeremy Bentham. All he wanted was the greatest amount of good for the greatest amount of people – even if that excluded himself.

“Louis?”

Louis took a deep breath. “Yeah, there’s still a wedding happening today.”

Zayn shook his head in disappointment but didn’t say anything. Louis knew that he was keeping his opinions at bay and trying to be as supportive as possible.

“I invited Harry to the wedding like a fucking moron.”

Zayn’s mouth fell open at Louis’ words. “Are you fucking daft? You broke the guy’s heart. You practically told him you were in love with him but didn’t want to be with him, and then you invite him to your wedding? Please tell me he ripped you a new one for that.”

Louis shrugged. “He begged me to choose him.”

Zayn wrapped an arm around his best friend’s shoulders, pulling him tight against his body. “It’s all gonna be okay, yeah? It’ll all work itself out. If you guys are meant to be, you’ll end up together one day.”

Louis groaned as he pushed himself up off the couch. “Liam is turning you into some cheesy sap. Go back to being a manwhore, would you?”

Zayn laughed, nudging his best friend’s shoulders. “You have a few hours to go. If you change your mind and decide to call this thing off just let me know, yeah? I’ll make sure to have a getaway car parked in the drive at the church.”

Louis wanted nothing more than to take Zayn up on that offer. He wanted nothing more than to cancel the whole thing, to end things with Eleanor – to stop living a lie. But the words he’d said to Harry last night had been the truth. He just wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready for his entire world to change. He wasn’t ready for the scrutiny from the public or the questions from his family and friends. He wasn’t ready for his life to turn upside down.

Louis couldn’t get Harry’s voice out of his head. He couldn’t forget the words he’d said in the wee hours of the morning – the way he’d begged Louis to choose him, the way he’d confessed his love, the way he’d expressed fear that Louis would forget him. After Harry had ended the call, Louis had gotten dressed and creaked out to the front door of Zayn’s flat. He’d almost gathered enough courage to actually open the door and leave, but the sounds of his groomsmen snoring in the living room and thoughts of his fiancée had changed his mind. He’d been so close to walking out, hailing a taxi and showing up at Harry’s door. He’d been so close to fighting for the life that he actually wanted. But like everything else in Louis’ life, he’d chickened out. He knew that marrying Eleanor was taking the easy way out, it was _so_ much easier than choosing Harry and showing who he really was to the rest of the world.

Coward of the year award goes to Louis Tomlinson.

“Hey, Lou?” Zayn’s voice broke through Louis’ thoughts. “I promise things are going to be okay. Maybe not now, maybe not for a while, but one day, everything will be okay.”

“Shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, Z,” Louis mumbled under his breath as he pushed himself off the stool and towards the bathroom. He was in much need of a shower, he could smell the scotch coming from his pores.

He tried not to think about Harry. He tried not to think about all of the words they’d shared in the middle of the night. He tried not to think of the first night at the club, the way Harry was all confidence and flirtatious comments. He tried not to think of that blowjob in the limo, the way Harry had been more than eager to give him his mouth. He tried not to think about the way they’d fit together so perfectly just a couple of days ago. It had only been a few days – they’d only had each other for a few days – but it had been the most perfect few days Louis had ever experienced. He’d wanted to hold onto them for forever, but he’d let them slip through his fingers; he’d literally felt them slip through his grasp like tiny grains of sand. He’d let it all fall apart faster than it had even started. He did this all to himself.

Louis let his head fall against the cool tile of the shower. He closed his eyes and tried to think about _anything_ else. He tried to think about Eleanor and the life they’d built together. He had to focus on them – on their future. He needed to forget about the curly hair and beautiful green eyes. There was a solid chance he’d never see Harry again, and he tried to ignore the way that made his chest burn with despair. He’d loved and lost before and had survived, why would this time be any different?

_Because he’d never loved Harry before. Harry made it all different._

T-minus 3 hours until Louis was a married man. T-minus 3 hours until Louis hated himself even more than he did right now.

*            *            *

“You look like you’re gonna puke” Daniel commented.

They were crammed into a tiny room at the back of the church, Zayn trying to tie Louis’ bow tie while the others attached the boutonnieres to their suits. Louis wasn’t even remotely shocked that he looked like he was on the verge of throwing up because he felt like it too. He tried to blame it on the hangover he was still rocking, but he knew it wasn’t entirely the heavy drinking’s fault. He was nervous, so incredibly fucking nervous. He was nervous to step out in front of the hundreds of people they’d invited to this thing, he was scared he was going to fuck up his vows (because of course Eleanor had insisted that they write their own) and he was petrified that everyone witnessing this wedding was going to see him for what he really was – a filthy, bloody liar.

“M’just nervous, mate,” it wasn’t a lie, not really. “I’m about to marry the love of my life, can’t really blame a guy, can ya?”

Louis was watching Daniel through the reflection in the mirror, catching the way he curled his lip up at Louis’ answer and the way some sort of unreadable emotion seemed to darken his face for a split second. Daniel quickly composed himself and smiled back at Louis, standing up and clapping him on the back. “Happy for you, mate.”

_Okay, so that was definitely fucking weird_.

Louis couldn’t wait until this wedding was over and he didn’t have to pretend to like this guy anymore. He’d only put up with him this long because he’d needed more groomsmen, but he was done with Daniel and his shadiness. There was definitely something off about the guy, but Louis had never been able to put his finger on it.

Louis checked his phone. He told himself he just wanted to check the time, but really he was hoping he’d hear from Harry. He knew there was absolutely no reason for Harry to want to talk to him, no reason for Harry to ever talk to him again after all the shit Louis had said during their last conversation, but Louis was ever the hopeful. He decided to take matters in his own hands and opened the messaging conversation with Harry up on his phone, tapping quickly. He only had ten minutes before he had to be a happy groom, standing at the alter and waiting for his beautiful fiancée.

**To: Harry**

**I’m sorry for drunk dialing you last night, but I really want you to know that I meant every word that I said. I know that doesn’t make any of it any better. I hope you change your mind and come to the reception tonight. I won’t blame you if you don’t (I wouldn’t want to come to your reception if the roles were reversed), but I’d really really really loaf to see you. I can’t even breathe when I think about the fact that the last time I saw you I was breaking your heart. I need to see your smile one last time. Please. Also, you don’t owe me anything, and I shouldn’t be such a selfish arsehole, but I am and I can’t help it. See you later (I hope)**

Louis hit “send” before he could second guess himself. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, he knew he should just leave Harry alone and let him get on with his life, but Louis lacked all self-control. He missed him. It was plain and simple. Louis missed Harry and he needed to see him one last time before they officially went their separate ways. He needed to see Harry the way he needed oxygen, and if that wasn’t the cheesiest, most cliché thing Louis had ever thought then fucking hell he needed to star in a Nicholas Sparks film.

“Lou?” Zayn’s voice was breaking through his inner dialogue for the millionth time that morning. “Mate, we gotta go, the other guys are already out there.

Apparently Louis had failed to notice that the rest of his groomsmen had cleared the room, leaving Zayn to pull Louis from his thoughts all on his own. “Oh, yeah, uh, can you put my phone in your pocket or something? Let me know if it goes off?”

Zayn eyed him curiously. “Are you waiting on an important phone call? You’re getting married, man, you can’t just be answering the phone in the middle of the ceremony.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Just like, poke me if Harry texts me or something, okay?”

Zayn sighed, throwing an arm around Louis and walking them out of the small room. “Louis, I’m not checking your phone in the middle of your wedding to see if your gay lover has texted you,” he laughed lightly when Louis turned to glare at him. “I love you, and I wish you would let yourself be happy and choose Harry, but we’re here and you’re getting married and you have to live with the choices you’ve made.”

Louis made a mental note to find a better best friend, regardless of the fact that Zayn was 100% right. Louis needed to live with the choices he’d made, and he’d decided to let this wedding happen in spite of the fact that he was in love with someone who very much was not his fiancée. He had to live with that. He would live that...wouldn’t he?

Before he could second guess himself any further, Louis took one final deep breath and walked through the door that led to the chapel. He found himself standing in front of hundreds of people, and for whatever stupid reason, he was scanning the pews, looking for a mop of chocolate brown curls. He sighed when he didn’t see Harry in the crowd, but cursed himself for thinking that he’d be there in the first place. Harry had said no, he’d refused to come to the wedding, and Louis couldn’t exactly blame him. Louis smiled when his mum finally caught his attention, waving from the front row pew. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should have told her everything, if he should have opened up and spilled his guts to his mum like he had his entire life. Maybe she would have helped him reason with his emotions. Maybe she would have helped him realize just what the right decision was.

Louis all but froze when the church filled with soft music, music he recognized. He’d listened to melody after melody to appease Eleanor, weighing in with hmm and has when she asked his opinion. She’d finally settled on the _perfect_ music to walk down the aisle too, and that day had been a blessing to Louis. To be fair, any day when she’d actually made a decision about the wedding had been a blessing. It turned out he hated wedding planning as much as he hated Katy Perry’s music. Who would have thought?

He stared down the aisle, waiting for something to happen. He released the breath he’d been holding in when Doris started skipping down the aisle towards him. This was something he could handle. He could handle his three year old sister, who was carefully throwing flowers as if it was the most important job in the world. In fact, he couldn’t help but smile fondly as she waved at him before finding their mum and sitting in her lap. Next to walk down the aisle were the bridesmaids, and Louis decided he could handle this too. Lottie was the last one before Millie, and Louis could see how strained his sister’s smile was. She obviously _hadn’t_ forgotten all about their conversation. He made a mental note to chastise her later. The last thing he needed was his little sister blowing his cover, revealing his secrets. He needed her to step up her acting skills, _now._

Louis drew in a sharp breath the second Eleanor appeared at the other end of the aisle, a beautiful bouquet of white roses in her hands, her arm strung through her father’s. Louis had thought about this moment countless times throughout the last eight years. He’d thought about how happy he’d be when he got that first look at Eleanor in her wedding dress. But now? The moment hadn’t lived up the hype, and maybe (just maybe) that had something to do with the fact that Louis’ mind wouldn’t even give him the needed space to process all of the visual stimulation. All he could see was Harry. His imagination was running wild and he couldn’t get the emerald eyes out of his mind. 

_It should be Harry._

Louis felt Zayn’s hand rest on his shoulder, and for a brief second Louis thought that his friend was trying to tell him that Harry had texted him, but then he came crashing back to reality. Zayn was simply just trying to warn him that his mask was falling off, that he was starting to show his disappointment. Louis stood up a bit straighter and stared ahead, pasting the best smile he could muster on his face. He had to live with the choices he’d made. He had to live with the choices he’d made. He’d never be able to live with the choices he’d made.

*

Louis would be lying if he said he hadn’t blacked out at some point during the ceremony. Before he knew it, Eleanor was taking his hand and talking - reciting the vows she’d obsessed over for months. 

“Louis,” her voice filled the church. “I can’t believe this day is already here. You’ve been my everything for the past eight years, and you’ll continue to be my everything for the rest of our lives. I will always be thankful for that wretched English literature class I’d decided to take on a whim, because that’s where I met you. I watched you recite William Blake and I knew right then and there that you were it for me, you would be my everything.”

Louis couldn’t help but laugh (in his head and too himself of course). He knew for a fact that Eleanor would never be able to name a single William Blake poem if he asked her to. And he knew for a fact that he’d recited a poem by Shelley, and not Blake. So there was that. 

“I can’t wait to watch you be a father to our children. I know you’ll be the most amazing dad in the world and our children will be the luckiest kids on earth. I can’t wait to grow old with you, to watch our children have children of their own. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I can’t wait to change my last name to Tomlinson.”

Louis could hear his mum sniffling back tears and he wanted to scream. He knew Eleanor loved him, okay, at the very least he assumed Eleanor still loved him, but her vows had been over the top and completely unnecessary. He knew she’d done it all for show. She’d done it for the reporters from OK! who were standing at the back of the church, recording the whole thing so that they could publish their exclusive issue on Louis’ wedding. She was all about the fame, and that was what bothered Louis the most.

He took note of the fact that the minister and Eleanor were looking at him expectantly. He must have been too busy with thoughts and missed his cue to start his vows. Louis cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. He hoped it wasn’t obvious that he’d come up with his words that very morning. 

“Ha...” oh god oh god oh god. Louis was panicking. He’d literally almost said Harry’s name instead of Eleanor’s and he wanted the alter floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Honey,” he rushed out quickly, apparently succeeding in fooling everyone, except for Zayn who had grabbed Louis’ elbow discreetly at his slip.

“Honey,” Louis started again, evening his breath. “The last eight years have been a dream come true,” he hated himself for saying it, he was sick to his stomach with guilt. Guilt for cheating on her and guilt for betraying Harry. “Waking up to you every morning has become my favourite time of day, and I can’t wait to wake up to you as my wife tomorrow. You make me the happiest man,” another lie, louis was definitely going to hell for lying in a church. “And I can’t wait to make you the happiest woman for the rest of our lives. I promise to love you for the rest of time.”

Eleanor was smiling up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, but Louis was also fairly certain that he saw a hint of disappointment there. He wondered what part of his barely planned or calculated speech had disappointed her. Probably the whole thing - the fact that Louis hasn’t teared up once during the entire ceremony probably wasn’t helping matters either. But what nobody else could see (except for maybe Zayn) was that Louis was a mess. He’d always been able to keep his composure, but inside? Inside he was a fucking wreck. He hadn’t truly been happy in a long time, but before Harry had barged into his life, Louis would have been placated by his marriage with Eleanor. He would have endured the whole thing without putting up much of a fuss. But Harry had opened up his entire world, he’d broken down Louis’ wall brick by brick, and now Louis was left hating himself for than before. _If that was even possible_.

Louis shook himself from his thoughts as the minister turned to the guests sitting in the pews. Louis’ ears were ringing as the minister asked if anybody had any objections to the marriage, and he scanned the pews. He wasn’t sure if he was hoping for Harry to jump up and declare his love or if he was hoping that the church would stay quiet and everything would go as planned. When nobody objected, Louis was slapped with the reality that Harry wasn’t even there and that he’d given Harry absolutely no reason to even think that objecting would be an option. He cursed himself for rejecting Harry as he begged Louis to choose him, he cursed himself for calling Harry in the first place. Maybe a clean break would have been easier. Maybe forgetting about each other was the only way to get through any of this.

Louis knew that was a lie. He also knew that there was no way he could keep on living without having Harry in his life. It didn’t matter if every time he connected with those emerald eyes if Louis’ heart broke a just bit more, he’d take what he could get. Louis tried to push all thoughts of Harry aside as the minister declared Louis and Eleanor husband and wife, and he couldn’t help but hating himself just a little bit more when he pursued his lips and kissed his new wife for the first time. 

_This should_ _be Harry._

And as Eleanor pulled back from their kiss, her lips tugged up into a smile when she took in the single tear that was rolling down Louis’ face. He’d let her think he was crying out of happiness, he’d let her think she was his entire world. He’d never let on that he was crying over the fact that the person standing in front of him didn’t have chocolate, shoulder length curls or jade eyes. He’d never let on that he was crying because he’d just put the last nail in his and Harry’s relationship. He’d fucked it all up and he could barely even breathe, but he’d take his mess of emotions to his grave. It didn’t matter anymore anyways - it was over. He’d lost Harry for good. 

*

Louis hated every minute of it. He hated sitting at the wedding party table, practically eating in front of their hundreds of guests. He hated the photographers that were circling around the banquet hall, taking pictures of him putting pieces of fillet mignon in his mouth. He hadn’t wanted any of this. He’d begged Eleanor for a small wedding, just their closest friends and family, but of course, like everything else in their life, their wedding had to be big and extravagant. He hated being on display, and yet here he was, on display for the rest of the world (okay, he was being dramatic).

“You okay?” Zayn asked under his breath from his spot next to Louis. He’d been by Louis’ side practically the entire day, throughout the ceremony, the hours of pictures Eleanor had subjected him to afterwards, and now dinner. Louis would have to remember to get him a really good present from Hawaii.

Louis nodded his head before taking a large sip from his wine glass. “Did Liam say anything about you know...if he was, coming or not?”

Zayn knew exactly who Louis was talking about. “No, but Lou, do you really think he’d show up? After everything?”

Louis shook his head this time. Zayn was right, he’d hurt Harry, there was no way he’d show up at the reception. He didn’t owe Louis anything.

“Who are you guys talking about?” All of a sudden, Eleanor’s chin was resting on Louis’ shoulder, her attention drawn to his conversation with Zayn.

“Uh, no one, just this guy from...” Louis was stumbling, grasping at straws as he tried to come up with a lie.

“One of our old friends,” Zayn finished the sentence for him. “Louis invited him to the reception, but he probably won’t show ‘cause I ghosted him a while back.”

Louis held his breath, only exhaling when Eleanor nodded her head, buying Zayn’s story. He spent the rest of dinner in silence, his mind only thinking of Harry as everyone else around him talked and laughed. He floated through the whole meal, absent-mindedly kissing Eleanor every time somebody tapped their wine glass with their cutlery. His body may have been sitting beside his wife, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. It was at a tiny flat in the middle of London, desperately trying to win back the one person who had ever really saw him for who he really was.

*

They’d been attending dance lessons for the past six months, but not a single one of the countless hours that Eleanor had forced Louis to practice the waltz had prepared him enough for this moment. He was all nerves as they made their way to the middle of the dancefloor, preparing to take their first dance as husband and wife. He spun her as Ed Sheeran’s voice and guitar filled the banquet hall. Louis had begged Eleanor to pick _any_ other song, but she’d insisted that “Thinking Out Loud” was _their_ song, as if millions of other couples hadn’t danced to that very same song at their wedding. It was the cliché to beat out all other clichés, and Louis hated every second of it. He loved Ed, really, he even considered him a friend, but the last thing Louis had wanted was to dance in front of hundreds of people to the most overplayed and cliché song that had ever been released. There was nothing personal in it, nothing that rang true of his and Eleanor’s relationship. But it was popular, and that was all Eleanor really cared about.

Louis was feeling pretty proud of himself, despite the cliché song choice. He hadn’t stepped on Eleanor’s feet once, which was something he’d done just days ago in their last dance lesson. As the chorus kicked in, Louis finally took his eyes off his own two feet, letting them scan the giant room. He looked up at the crystal chandelier that hung above their heads, almost blinding himself by staring at the dozens of little lights. He blinked as he scanned their audience, but no amount of little white dots clouding his vision could stop him from spotting _him_. Louis blinked at least a million more times (okay, there he was being dramatic again), making sure that he wasn’t just looking at a mirage. As Eleanor led them across the dancefloor, Louis kept his eyes trained on the bar and the curly haired guy who was standing there, back leaning against the mahogany surface, a glass in one hand and the other one shoved in one of the pockets of his black dress pant.

_Harry. Harry. Harry._

*             *          *

He hadn’t planned on going, in fact, he’d actively planned on not going. Harry had stopped at the shop on his way home from work, buying them out of every pint of strawberry ice cream they had stocked in their freezer. His second stop was the liquor store. He bought three bottles of wine (he’d tried to chalk it up to the fact they were on sale, but really he knew he _needed_ that much alcohol, if not more). It wasn’t until he was sitting in his empty flat (because of course Niall was out with some girl and Liam was at the godforsaken wedding) that Harry realized just how pathetic he was. He was sat on the couch, tucked warmly in a pair of ratty joggers and a jumper that still somehow smelt like Louis, a pint of ice cream in his lap and an open bottle of wine on the coffee table. He hadn’t even bothered with a glass – at one point he’d even considered just pouring the wine into the ice cream, but then he’d snapped out of the fog. He didn’t want to be pathetic. He didn’t want to be sitting there, watching _Friends_ and pining after his soulmate. He wanted to get his shit together and fight. _He wanted to fight for Louis._

And so here he was, leaning against the bar of some fancy ass banquet hall, with a glass of wine that would have cost him an entire day’s salary if it hadn’t been an open bar. He was well aware of the fact that he was staring at Louis, but he didn’t give a fuck. He watched as Louis and Eleanor danced through the first verse of Thinking Out Loud (really? Harry had thought Louis had better taste than that). He watched as Eleanor looked up at Louis as if he was the fucking sun. To be fair, he was the sun. But he was Harry’s sun.

His breath hitched in his throat as Louis’ eyes finally landed on him. Harry could almost see Louis’ pupils burst from where he was standing. Harry wanted to look away, wanted to break the intense stare down that was currently going on, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t look away from the ice blue eyes that were focused on him instead of the girl who was barely inches away from him. For a split second, Harry felt like he and Louis were the only two people in the entire hall, but then Eleanor stood up on her tip toes, her lips finding Louis’ jaw. Harry’s eyes screwed shut at that very moment. Obviously he’d known that going to his soulmate’s wedding reception was going to hurt, but the knife that was currently digging into his heart was twisting and it wouldn’t stop.

“Harry?” Harry’s eyes shot open at the sound of his name to reveal Liam and Zayn standing in front of him, confusion painted across both of their faces.

“Hey,” Harry tried to sound perfectly normal, as if it wasn’t absolutely bonkers that he was casually standing there, watching Louis and Eleanor play the part of the perfect couple.

Liam immediately pulled Harry against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around him. “What are you doing here? Are you okay? Need me to take you home?”

Harry pulled away, running his hands over his dress shirt to clear any of the wrinkles Liam had just put there. “M’fine, Liam, really. Just came for the free booze.”

Zayn’s hand fell on Liam’s shoulder, pulling him back beside him. “Mate, I don’t think you should be here.”

“Why not?” Harry didn’t care what anyone thought, not really. All he cared about was the boy who was currently dancing to the stupidest song in the entire universe. All he cared about was seeing him one last time.

“Harry, Louis’ a mess,” Zayn continued, his voice careful and soft. “He’s been a wreck all day, and he’s done a really good job at trying to hide it. But if he sees you...fuck, if he sees you he’s going to lose it completely and I don’t want to see either of you worse off than you already are.”

“He asked me to come,” Harry whispered as he stared into his now empty wine glass.

Zayn sighed, obviously taking pity on Harry’s sadness. “I don’t think he expected you to show.”

Harry shrugged. “Didn’t really think I would either, but here I am.”

The three of them stood in awkward silence. Liam looked between Harry and Zayn as he tried to determine what the best solution to the situation was, until he finally just waved down the bartender and ordered three more glasses of wine.

“What’s the plan here, H?” Liam asked as he handed Zayn and Harry their glasses.

Harry shrugged, looking back at where Louis and Eleanor were finally coming to a stop, the music drowning out into nothingness. He knew what he wanted the plan to be. He wanted to march right up to Louis, grab the back of his neck and kiss him until he couldn’t see straight. But Harry was a realist (a third of the time, anyways), and he knew that wasn’t a viable option. So that meant he had to resort to plan B – get drunk off his ass until he was brave enough to even say hello to Louis.

_Plan A was so much better_. 

“Can we go sit down?” Harry said instead. He waited for Liam to nod his head and then followed them back to their table. Harry knew Louis had seen him – there was no way he’d imagined their stare down, but he’d wait for Louis to approach him first. He’d begged Harry to come, the least Louis could do was make the first move.

Harry had barely been sitting for even a minute before he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. He knew instantly that it wasn’t Louis’, he could tell by the way the touch didn’t send an electric jolt down his arm – he could tell by the way it didn’t send a spark of warmth right to his heart. Harry looked up to the person that was attached to the hand that was resting on his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes as he took in the familiar features until he realized just who it was.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Daniel drawled. “Didn’t realize Louis had invited strangers to his wedding,” he said as he looked from Liam back to Harry, his eyes narrowed in judgment.

Harry didn’t even bother trying to be nice, he let the scowl show on his face. “Forgot about Lou’s douchebag friend. Gotta say, was kinda hoping I’d never run into you again.”

“And yet you show up uninvited at my mate’s wedding,” Daniel countered, matching Harry’s scowl with a look that could kill.

Harry peeled Daniel’s hand from his shoulder. “For your information, I was invited, not that it’s any of your business. Now, kindly fuck off, yeah?”

Daniel was about to argue back when Louis materialized at his side, his eyes everywhere but on Harry. “El wants you to go dance with her,” Louis told Daniel, who shot one more glare at Harry before turning on his heel and heading in Eleanor’s direction.

Silence blanketed the table once Daniel was gone. Louis stayed standing, his eyes trained on the centerpiece on the table while Harry played with the rings on his fingers. It wasn’t until Liam cleared his throat that anyone even made a single move.

“Uh, Zayn and I are gonna go, get some more wine,” Liam mumbled as he pulled Zayn up from his chair.

Harry was shaking his head incessantly. “You guys don’t have to...”

“Have fun,” Louis said firmly as he sat down at Liam’s now empty chair, which was conveniently beside Harry.

Neither of them said anything for what felt like eternity. Harry couldn’t form words when all he wanted was to straddle Louis and show him just what he was missing. Harry finally turned his attention to Louis, their eyes meeting in an instant – ocean waves crashing against the rainforest. Blue and green interlacing in the most heated eye contact Harry had ever experienced in his entire life.

“Hi,” Louis whispered, his lips turned up into a small smile.  
Harry smiled then, he couldn’t even help it. It was impossible to be this close to Louis and not be filled with pure bliss. Even when his heart was aching in his chest, even after Louis had broken him into a million little pieces, Harry was completely and utterly filled with affection. “Hi,” Harry said back.

“I really didn’t think you’d come,” Louis confessed as he settled into the chair, finally relaxing.

Harry shrugged. “Haven’t yet,” it was a stupid attempt at a joke, but he thought that maybe, just maybe, if he kept the mood light he would make it through this night. That he’d be alive at the other end.

Louis threw his head back in laughter and Harry was fairly certain it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever witnessed. He wanted to sink his teeth into Louis’ exposed neck, but instead he laughed along at his own joke. He could play it cool. _He could_.

“What d’you say? Wanna get black out drunk with me?” Louis asked once he calmed his fit of giggles.

Harry nodded his head, jumping up from his chair before Louis could even process his response. “Let’s go take advantage of the poor lad that’s paying for this expensive as fuck open bar.”

Louis laughed again, not even caring that Harry was poking fun at the grandiosity of the whole wedding. “Let’s go drink him poor.”

Once they got to the bar, Louis demanded an unopened bottle of scotch and two glasses from the bartender. Once he had them in hand he turned back to Harry, his eyes travelling from his shoes up to his face. “You look like you’re going to a funeral,” he commented. “You’re wearing all black.”

Harry had picked his outfit carefully and intentionally. He was dressed in skinny, black dress pants, a black button up shirt and a black suit jacket. He’d looked at his reflection in the mirror before leaving his flat, smiling at the way he’d managed to display his emotions perfectly. “Kinda am though, aren’t I?”

Louis’ smile fell at Harry’s words, and Harry immediately started panicking. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t make tonight about him, that he’d put his broken heart aside and support Louis. But he’d only made it five minutes in and he’d fucked it all up already. “I just mean, a wedding is like a funeral, right? S’end of your single life, your freedom and all that shit.”

Louis’ smile returned, but it wasn’t as bright as before. Harry promised himself he’d make sure he saw it again at least one more time before they said goodbye tonight. Before they said goodbye for forever.

“Louis!” all of a sudden someone was running up to them, fitting herself in between them as she flung her arms around Louis’ neck. “Come dance with me!”

Louis huffed in annoyance as he pulled the blonde off of him. “No way, Lottie. My mate and I are gonna go get blasted. Shhh, don’t tell mum.”

Harry wanted to cry at the way Louis had referred to him as his _mate_ , but he didn’t even have time to react before the blonde girl, Lottie, was turning to him. She tilted her head to the side as she assessed him. “How did my dink of a brother get a fit friend like you?”

Harry laughed at the sheer absurdness of the entire situation. Was Louis’ sister really hitting on him right now? Was that actually happening? Was he currently at his soulmates reception while said soulmate’s sister hit on him? _Well then._

“It’s nice to meet you,” Harry responded as he looked between Lottie and Louis.

“How do you guys know each other?” Lottie continued her interrogation.

Louis was the one to answer this time, sheer panic leaking from his pores. “Work, we met at work.”

Harry was confused, beyond confused. Why was Louis trying so hard to lie about how they’d met? Why was it such a big deal if his sister knew they’d met at a club? Unless...

Lottie looked between the two boys one more time, her eyebrows raised in confusion as she tried to read the situation. Louis didn’t let out a breath of relief until her name was being called and she was kissing them both on the cheek and running off to dance.

“Okay, so,” Louis started as soon as Lottie was gone. “Word on the street is this place has a roof. So, I say we go on an adventure and find that sucker.”

Harry narrowed his eyebrows, his hand gesturing to the rest of the hall. “Shouldn’t you stay here? It’s your wedding after all.”

Louis shrugged. “Nah, no one will even notice I’m gone.”

“She may,” Harry stated as he nudged his head at someone behind Louis. That someone was wearing a wedding dress. That someone was making her way towards them. That someone was the one person in the entire world Harry hated.

“Lou, there you are,” Eleanor said as she nestled into Louis’ side, her head falling to his shoulder.

“Yup, here I am,” Louis replied flatly.

“Who’s this?” she asked as she looked at Harry.

Harry could see the dread on Louis’ face, he could see the way all the colour had drained and had been replaced by complete and utter dread.

“Harry,” Harry answered for Louis, extending his hand to Eleanor. “You look lovely. Congratulations on the wedding.” Every single word he managed to say hurt a million times worse than the last. He hadn’t thought this part through. He hadn’t thought about how if he showed up tonight that he’d most likely have to meet _her_. He knew he should be filled with guilt, he knew he should feel horrible meeting the woman whose husband he’d been sleeping with, but he didn’t. Harry didn’t feel any form of guilt, and it was only that little fact that made him feel guilty. Leave it to Harry fucking Styles to feel guilty about not feeling guilty.

Eleanor smiled at his words, but Harry could see just how fake it was. He had no idea how someone as genuine as Louis could end up with someone like her. To be fair, he’d met her for all of three seconds, but Harry didn’t care. He prided himself on being a good judge of character, and Eleanor? She wasn’t good people.

“Don’t you want to come dance?” she turned to Louis then, not even bothering to utter a _thank you_ to Harry. “Your mum is killing it out there.”

His mum. _Louis’ mum_. Harry wished he was in a position to meet her, to meet the woman who’d brought his favourite person into this world. Harry was 99.9% sure he was completely insane. Louis shouldn’t be his favourite person – someone he’d known for a week shouldn’t be that important to him. Someone who didn’t even want him shouldn’t be that big of a part of him.

_But he was._ Louis was everything. Louis was the goddamn universe and Harry was simply just another planet orbiting in his atmosphere.

“Maybe later,” Louis replied to his wife. _His wife._ Harry braced himself for a fight, braced himself for Eleanor to throw a fit and drag Louis off – drag Louis away from _him_. But she just shrugged and made her way back to the dancefloor and the dozens upon dozens of people who were dancing along to classic, cliché wedding reception music.

“Roof?” the grin was back on Louis’ face as he turned to Harry and held up the bottle of scotch that very much needed to be opened and poured down Harry’s throat.

 Harry nodded his head in affirmation. “Roof.” He followed Louis as he weaved his way through the guests, making their way out of ballroom.

They didn’t speak as they located the staircase and began to make their way up. There was so much Harry _wanted_ to say, but now that he was all alone with Louis he just couldn’t find his voice. The words were stuck in his chest and he was pretty sure he’d die before they ever got a chance to escape.

“Hey, Harold?” Louis voice broke the silence as he stopped once they got to a landing, another flight of stairs waiting for them.

Harry didn’t say anything, he just stopped in front of Louis and waited for him to continue – waited for him to reveal whatever was so important that they’d stopped mid adventure.

“Harry,” Louis’ voice was quiet now, a softness floating over each syllable. He took a step closer to Harry, his hand reaching out to fall on Harry’s arm. Harry watched in awe as Louis’ hand trailed down his arm until their hands were pressed together. He took a deep breath as Louis interlaced their fingers. Harry hadn’t realized just how much he’d needed this; just how much he’d missed the feeling of Louis’ skin against his own. It was everything. It was a lifeline.

“Lou...”

Louis didn’t let Harry finish his train of thought as he held up a hand for him to stop talking, and Harry didn’t even care – he didn’t even know what he’d wanted to say. A part of him wanted to object. A part of him wanted to rip his hand away and run like hell. A part of him wanted to yell, wanted to scream at Louis for being such a selfish prick. But another part, a much larger part, wanted to never let go. Harry’s heartstrings wanted to keep Louis in the stairwell for forever, wanted to keep him _his_. He never wanted this to end. He wanted to spend the rest of his life holding Louis Tomlinson’s hand.

In a blink of an eye, Harry’s hand was empty and his back was pressed up against the cinderblocks, Louis’ body pressed up against him. Harry felt all air leave his lungs. He felt surrounded, completely engulfed by Louis, and he didn’t mind one single bit. It didn’t matter how wrong this whole thing was, it didn’t matter if at the end of the night Louis would end up in a hotel bed with Eleanor. All that mattered was that right now Harry had him, he _had_ Louis. He was only human, he had to take what he could get.

“I’m really really really fucking glad you came,” Louis whispered as his eyes darted from Harry’s eyes to his lips.

“What can I say? I’m a masochist, really,” Harry whispered back, waiting – _praying_ for Louis to break the distance that was still between them.

“I miss you.”

Harry couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have another conversation like the one they’d had over the phone in the middle of the night. He couldn’t hash out all of his emotions, his heartbreak, his despair. He needed something tangible from Louis, he needed something that he could hold onto. He was sick of waiting, he was sick of hoping that Louis would make the first move, so he spun Louis around until they’d switched places – Louis against the wall and Harry pressed up right against him. He didn’t want to make the same mistake as Louis did, so Harry made sure there wasn’t a single inch of space separating them. They were pressed suit against tuxedo, body against body, and Harry already felt like his head might explode from it all.

“I’m right here,” Harry finally replied, his mouth hot against Louis’ ear. “M’not going anywhere.”

They were both panting, and Harry could feel just how their close proximity was effecting Louis. He could feel the strain in Louis’ hardening cock against his thigh, and Harry just wanted to take everything he could get right then and there. But Harry had self-control (okay, he could _fake_ self-control at the very least), so he took Louis’ earlobe between his teeth and pulled lightly before taking a step back and leaving them both struggling to breathe. How could they possibly give this up? How was Harry supposed to walk away when just being around Louis made him lose his breath?

Harry held his breath for the last few stairs, not exhaling until the door to the roof was open and he was looking out at the London skyline. He watched as Louis sat down, opened the bottle of scotch and filled the two glasses.

“You gonna join me?” Louis asked as he looked up at Harry and patted the spot beside him.

The second Harry was sitting he felt Louis shift closer to him until their shoulders and knees were brushing. It was terrifying really, the fact that Louis’ body being close to his was the only thing keeping him sane. Harry had to wonder how long it would be until he was locked up. He knew the second they said goodbye that he’d spiral, that he’d lose his mind entirely.

“Harry,” Louis’ voice broke through the thin air. Harry jumped as he felt Louis’ hand rest on his knee. “Are you o...”

“If you’re about to ask me if I’m okay,” Harry interrupted, emptying his glass of scotch in one gulp. “If you’re about to ask me if I’m okay I’ll punch you.”

Harry knew his voice lacked any real conviction, and he let out a breath of relief when Louis laughed at his threat. How could two people who’d only known each other for seven days know one another so well? How was it even fair that no one, not a single person, had understood Harry as well as Louis did?

“You look incredible,” Harry confessed as he turned so that he was facing Louis, both of them sitting cross-legged in front of each other. He reached his hand out and played with the bow around Louis’ neck. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

There was no turning back. Harry wasn’t even able to count to three before Louis was tugging him by his curls, pulling him towards him. Their mouths collided, teeth clanging and tongues desperately sliding against one another. The world went silent around Harry as he pulled Louis into his lap, his knees on either side of Harry’s legs, deepening the kiss. If this was going to be the last time Harry ever got to touch Louis, he was damn well going to make it count.

“So fucking beautiful,” Harry repeated as he nibbled along Louis’ jawline, his tongue darting out to lap at the bit of scruff. “Wish you were mine.”

Louis moaned and grinded his hips down into Harry’s, causing them both to whimper from the friction. They kissed for what felt like eternity, their lips chapped and both of their chests heaving from a lack of oxygen. Louis pushed Harry down against the cement until he was flat on his back with Louis hovering above him.

“This is the happiest I’ve been all day,” Louis confessed as he wiped a curl from Harry’s face.

Harry smiled as he ran his fingers through Louis’ fringe. “This is the happiest I’ve been since you walked out of my bedroom.”

Louis’ smile dropped just then, but Harry pulled him forward and connected their mouths. The last thing he wanted was to talk about how all of this was going to end. The last thing he wanted was to waste what little time he had left by talking about the end.

“Harry,” Louis’ voice was a whine as he rutted up against Harry, both of their hard cocks pressing against each other. “Harry, love, I need...”  
“What do you need baby?” Harry moaned out the words as he grounded his hips up into Louis’.

“You,” Louis choked out. “I need you, I want to taste you.”

Harry’s entire mind went blank – the entire city surrounding them went silent and black as Harry processed Louis’ words. He’d thought about having Louis’ mouth on him millions of times, hell, even before he’d _met_ Louis. “Fuck, yes, baby, yes.”

“Will you tell me what to do?” even as Louis was asking the question his hands were working at Harry’s belt and buttons. Harry’s pants and briefs were down within seconds, bunch up at his ankles.

“Mmm,” Harry sighed as the cool air hit his sensitive skin. He thrusted his hips upwards as Louis’ fingers wrapped around his base.

“Tell me what to do, love.”

Harry finally opened his eyes, meeting Louis’ intense gaze. The blue of Louis’ eyes were something Harry would remember for the rest of his life. It didn’t matter how many years passed, Louis’ eyes were Harry’s favourite piece of art. “Lick me, baby.”

Louis didn’t have to be told twice. His flattened his tongue and licked Harry from base to tip, his eyes staying focused on Harry’s the entire time. Harry had gotten his fair share of blow jobs in his lifetime, but this? This was better than anything he’d ever experienced before. This was fucking magic.

Harry wound his fingers into Louis’ hair, tugging lightly and hissing at the moan it elicited from the back of Louis’ throat. “Put me in your perfect little mouth, baby. I want to...fuck.” Harry didn’t even have to instruct Louis; his cock was already hitting the back of Louis’ throat as Louis hollowed out his cheeks. It was perfect, it was _fucking bliss_. “Lou,” Harry cried out. “You’re so good for me, fuck, I love you.”

He hadn’t meant to say the words, but they were there, lingering between them. It was the first time he’d ever really said them in person, and he wasn’t even sure if Louis even remembered their entire conversation from the night before. But the way Louis responded, the way his tongue swirled around Harry’s tip and the way he bobbed his head until Harry was hitting the back of his throat over and over again, made Harry think that maybe it wasn’t so bad. Maybe it wasn’t the end of the world that he’d just said _I love you_ to a guy who’d gotten married just hours ago. Maybe time wouldn’t stop and hell wouldn’t freeze over. Maybe he’d survive.

“I’m going to come baby,” Harry whimpered into the night sky, causing Louis to quicken his pace even more, basically swallowing around Harry’s cock. Harry came with a cry, his chest tightening even more as he watched Louis swallow his come and lick his lips. _Holy mother of everything sexy_.

“Lou, fuck,” Harry breathed as he moved his hands down to Louis’ own belt, working as fast as he could to pull his pants and briefs down all together. He pulled Louis down for another kiss, needing to feel his mouth against his once more, needing to feel their tongues collide and spark a fire. When they pulled apart, Louis was palming himself, whimpering at how hard and worked up his was. Harry had thought he’d seen Louis at his sexiest, but fuck, here was Louis – touching himself while straddling Harry and Harry wanted to die. How had he gotten so lucky as to witness such a beautiful sight?

“What are you thinking about, baby?” Harry dug his fingers into Louis’ hips as he watched him pump himself.

“You,” Louis gasped, picking up the pace of his hand. “Your lips around me in the limo, you riding me. The taste of you on my tongue.”

Harry sat up until their chests were against one another, Louis cock in his hand between them. When Louis finally released, he cried into Harry’s mouth and let his head fall against Harry’s shoulders.

They sat there, naked with their arms wrapped around each other on a roof in the middle of London for what felt like forever. Harry didn’t want to let go. _He couldn’t let go_. He knew this would all have to come to an end eventually. He knew they’d have to get dressed and go back down to the party. He knew Louis would have to get in a limo with his wife and fly off to Hawaii. He knew he had to go back to his flat, back to school, back to work – back to reality.

“Hey, Lou?” Harry murmured against Louis’ neck.

“Hmm?”

“Remember that day in your studio? When I told you I wouldn’t let you go, not until you asked me to?” Harry asked, his fingers tracing soft lines against Louis’ bare back.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to let you go?”

There was a pause, a moment where everything else in the universe stilled. Harry thought that he could hear Louis’ heartbeat through his chest. “No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What does everyone think?? Would love to hear your thoughts and what you think is going to happen next! Thanks for all the support and love xx


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sooo sorry for the delay in posting this chapter! I know it' a lame excuse but school has been stupid busy and I've been trying to keep up with the pile of essays I have to write in the next few weeks! 
> 
> Okay, so, I know I've disappointed a lot of you guys in the way the plot has gone in this story. I'm going to forewarn you that you probably won't be too pleased with this chapter either...but please please please stick with me. We only have a few chapters left and I promise you I won't end it in a bad way. Have faith in Louis (and Harry).
> 
> Thank you to everyone for sticking with me through this! Can't wait to update the next chapter!
> 
> Also! If you love an amazing Larryf fic, check out my best friend’s beast of a story:   
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10059797/chapters/22414862

17 days. It had been 17 days since Harry had shown up at Louis’ wedding; 17 days since he’d let Louis touch him on the roof; 17 days since the last time he’d even spoken to Louis. He’d shamefully sent one too many texts to Louis in the last 17 days. All Harry could think about was their goodbye in the stairwell, Harry’s lips still tinging from their heated kisses, Louis promising over and over again that he’d text him while he was in Hawaii. It had been a lie – of course it had been a lie. Harry hadn’t heard from Louis since. Not once. He hadn’t gotten a single response, and each day Harry’s heart broke just a little bit more. He should’ve known better, he should have stayed far away from that wedding. But it was too late now. He’d gone and he’d let Louis get his hopes up. Harry had never felt so naïve, so much like a child until now. The longer he waited for a stupid little text the more he felt himself harden with rage. He was angry with himself, but he was fucking livid with Louis.

Harry hated himself for how attached to his phone he’d become. He placed it on the sink counter as he stripped himself and stepped into the steaming shower. He hadn’t let that phone out of his sight in the last 17 days. He’d even gone as far as to call his service provider to make sure the thing was working properly. He would have given anything for them to tell him his service had been cut off, _anything_ would have made him feel better than the simple fact that Louis was ignoring him.

“He told me not to let him go,” Harry whispered to the hot water as he tilted his face up into it. He felt like a fool. He felt like a complete idiot for believing a single word that had come out of Louis’ mouth. Louis must have laughed to himself when Harry had shown up at the reception. The entire time he was kissing Harry, _blowing_ Harry, he’d probably been thinking about how stupid the kid was. Harry had opened himself up and had let Louis use him, and now? Now he felt just as awful as Louis had treated him.

He was garbage.

As much as he hated himself for waiting for a text, a phone call, _anything_ , Harry hated himself even more for the amount of times he’d typed Louis’ name into google. He was sure if he checked the last two weeks of his search history all that would show up with be Louis Tomlinson, or any variation of search words that included Louis’ name. He’d read stupid, trashy articles about Louis and Eleanor’s romantic honeymoon. He’d looked at countless pictures of a shirtless Louis rubbing sun lotion on Eleanor’s barely clad body. He’d cringed (okay, he’d cried) over the dozens of pictures that the paps had managed to take of the happy couple kissing on a private beach. It was when he was staring at a picture of Eleanor straddling Louis’ thighs on a beach chair that Harry decided he hated the internet. There was nothing good there, nothing that would bring him any sense of comfort. The internet was basically the devil incarnate, trying to break him down one picture at a time.

His phone buzzed just as the tears had started to take their course, the exact same path they’d been taking for the past 17 days. Harry didn’t even think the words _water damage_ as he pulled the shower curtain aside and reached for the device. His heart stopped in his chest when he saw the name on the screen – _Louis._ He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t even think as he swiped to unlock the screen and read the words of the message, which was basically a fucking novel.

**From: Louis the douchebag  
** **God, I’m an arse, I know I’m an arse. And I know I have absolutely no fucking right to be even texting you right now. I know have no fucking right to even think you’d want to hear from me. I want to start by saying sorry, but fuck Harry, that doesn’t seem like enough. But I am sorry, I’m sorry for not texting you like I promised I would. I didn’t know what to say, you know? You were all I thought about while I was there and I just couldn’t think of the right words to use to express how much you mean to me. It didn’t feel right to text you how much I love you while my wife was sleeping next to me. Fuck. I just said I love you. Obviously I could just erase that, but fuck it. I do love you. I love you so much. And I miss you. I miss everything about you. But I miss the way you make me feel like myself the most. I miss the way you make me want to be better. God, this is all so fucking cheesy and cliché and I know how much you hate cliché shit. But Harry, I fucking love you. And I wish I could tell you that in person, but I’m currently sat on a plane heading off to L.A. for work. I wanted to see you before I left, but everything got so fucking busy and I just didn’t have the chance. Please forgive me, even though I don’t deserve it. I meant everything I said on that roof Harry. Don’t let go, not yet, okay? Give me another chance. The second I land I’m going to call you so that I can tell you I love you a million fucking times. Because I do. I love you Harold.**

Harry hit the floor of the bathtub, the phone falling from his hands and onto the bathroom tile. He was sobbing, his body curled in on itself as each howl worked its way through his body. He tried to hold it in, he tried to keep himself together, but he couldn’t. Before he knew it, he was hyperventilating – gasping for air as each sob continued to wreck through him.

“Harry?” Niall’s voice called from the other side of the door. Harry couldn’t bring himself to respond, he couldn’t even fucking breathe let alone talk. As another sob forced its way from his chest, Niall called out his name again and rapped his fist against the door. “Harry? Harry, are you alright? I’m coming in, okay?”

Harry wanted to protest but couldn’t. All he could do was cry harder as Niall turned the doorknob and took a step into the bathroom.

“Harr...” Niall’s voice stopped once he took in the sight of Harry, who was curled up in a ball at the bottom of the tub, the shower curtain pushed aside as water continued to rain on top of him and all over the bathroom floor. “H, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?”

Harry couldn’t respond. He tried to talk, tried to say _anything_ -  but all he could do was cry even harder. He pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging them tight against his body.

“Haz...” Niall’s voice trailed off as he picked Harry’s phone up off the floor. His eyes scanned over the message that was still on the screen. Without saying a word, Niall slipped the cell phone into the pocket of his joggers and reached to turn off the shower. “Harry,” Niall was in full caregiver mode as he wrapped a towel around Harry’s shoulder. “Do you think you can stand?”

Harry nodded his head so slightly that Niall almost missed it. He put all of his effort and strength into leaning against Niall’s body as he pulled him off the bathtub floor. Harry had never felt like this before, had never felt so completely out of his body. He’d smoked enough pot in his lifetime to know what it felt like to be dazed, but this was something else entirely. It was as if none of his senses were working properly, and before he knew it, he was somehow standing in his bedroom as Niall awkwardly tried to pull a pair of joggers onto his bare body. Any other moment, Harry would be ridden with shame and embarrassment, but right now? Right now he didn’t even know what day it was. He wasn’t even entirely sure if he knew what his name was, so he could very well couldn’t care less if his best mate was dressing his naked body. There would be time to be embarrassed later, right now there was only enough space in his head for the numbness that had taken up residency. 

Harry lifted his arms as Niall pulled a jumper over his head before guiding him to the side of his bed and pushing him down lightly until he was laying down. Harry hadn’t opened his eyes in what felt like forever, and he didn’t even notice when Niall turned the light off to the bedroom and shut the door behind him. Harry’s head was complete darkness, and what little thoughts he had swarming around in his mind hoped it would stay that way. He couldn’t go back to reality. He couldn’t go back to a life where his soulmate was married to a woman and too afraid to own up to what was going on. He couldn’t go back to a life where he was Louis’ second choice. He was so sick of being somebody’s plan b. He was so sick of being chosen only after everything else fell apart. He deserved better, and maybe, just maybe, when he was able to open his eyes and face life, Harry would make sure he never got treated like this again. Maybe, just maybe, he was done with Louis Tomlinson for good.

*           *          *

Louis had only been in Los Angeles for an hour, basically just long enough to make his way from the airport to the hotel he’d be staying at for the next couple of weeks. He was laying on the king-sized bed, his phone in his hands as he stared at Harry’s contact information. He’d sent the last text to him hours ago, before the plane had even started down the runway at Heathrow. He’d expected to hear back from Harry, which really wasn’t exactly fair of him. Harry owed him absolutely nothing. He’d begged Louis to choose him and Louis had gotten married instead. He had no right to think Harry even wanted to hear from him, but that didn’t stop him from pressing the ‘call’ button and putting the phone to his ear.

It wasn’t until the phone rang for the fifth time that Louis even realized how late it was in London. It was half past eight in LA, making it past four in the morning in London. He knew he should feel bad about possibly waking Harry up, but he didn’t. He _needed_ to talk to him, he needed to say all of the things he should have said weeks ago.

Louis was just about to give up when the call got answered. He waited in silence as he listened to the person on the other end breathe. He knew Harry wouldn’t be the first one to talk, he knew _he_ had to put in all the effort. He owed Harry that much. “Harry,” Louis’ voice was small, afraid even, but he had so much he needed to say. “Harold.”

“It’s Niall, actually.”

 _Okay, so this was not the way this was supposed to go_. Louis wanted to sink into the mattress. He wanted the memory foam to fold in around him and make him disappear. He wasn’t ready for whatever Niall had to say. He wasn’t ready for any of this. “Oh, hey Niall,” Louis tried to even his voice, tried to muster up enough confidence to make the shakiness go away. “Is uh...is Harry ‘round?”

“You’ve got some real nerve, you know that?” Niall ignored Louis’ question altogether, getting right to the long list of things he probably needed to yell at Louis for.

“Listen, you don’t really know...”

Niall interrupted him right away. “Oh, I know, Louis. I know everything. Harry filled me in on everything. I told you not to hurt him, I told you not to play fucking games with him. How can you even live with yourself after everything you’ve done to him?”

“Can you please just put Harry on the phone?” Louis was practically begging. He couldn’t justify himself to Niall, not until he explained everything to Harry – not until he told Harry how much he loved him.

Niall laughed at Louis’ plea. “Can I put Harry on the phone? Are you fucking kidding me, mate? That fucking text you sent him earlier sent him into a fucking breakdown. I had to lift him out of the fucking shower and get him into his bed. You fucking broken him, Louis. So no, I can’t put Harry on the fucking phone right now.”

Louis sighed. “I know I have a lot of explaining to do, but you need to let me. I need to talk to Harry.”

“Why don’t you explain to your wife why you were fucking a guy on the roof while she was celebrating your fucking wedding.”

“Look,” Louis needed Niall to hear him. He just needed to get Harry on the phone. “I get that Harry’s your friend...”

Niall interrupted him again. “He’s my best mate.”

“Okay, yeah, I get it,” Louis continued. “But you don’t get to make this decision for him. He should at least get the choice of whether or not he wants to talk to me.”

“I don’t think you get it, Louis,” Niall countered. “You weren’t the one who found him curled up in a ball on the bathtub floor. You weren’t the one who had to carry him to his bed and dress him because he could barely even stand on his own. I’m not going to let you back into his life, you got it? I’m not letting you break him more than you already have. As far as I’m concerned, you’re done with him. Your wife may not mind being fucked around with, but I’m not letting you do that to Harry, not anymore.”

Louis didn’t even get the chance to argue back before the dial tone starting beeping in his ear. Of course Niall had hung up on him. Louis felt the tears start to fall from his eyes. He hadn’t expected the conversation to go perfectly, but he’d expected to at least be able to admit his feelings to Harry. He’d expected to actually be able to tell Harry he loved him. He hadn’t expected to not even get the chance to talk to Harry. And yet here he was, alone and crying in a hotel room like the arse he was. He deserved it – he deserved every single thing Niall had said. Louis hadn’t treated Harry right, he hadn’t treated Harry the way he deserved. He only hoped he’d get the chance to make it up to him. He _needed_ to make it up to him.

*             *           *

Harry wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here. He was sitting in the middle of a crowded pub, crammed into a small booth with Liam, Zayn, Niall and some girl Niall had met all of three minutes ago while he’d been getting them all beers. Niall and Liam had all but forced him to go out with them, claiming that he’d spent more than enough time holed up in their flat pining after Louis the douchebag. But it hadn’t been long enough, not for Harry. It had been a month since Louis had texted him – a month since his embarrassing breakdown in the shower. Harry hadn’t heard from Louis since – Louis hadn’t even bothered to call like he’d promised in his text. Harry had tried not to feel lost, he’d tried not to let Louis’ absence in his life destroy him, but he’d failed. He hadn’t realized he could miss someone as much as he missed Louis. It didn’t matter how mad he was, it didn’t matter how much he wanted to punch Louis in the face. Harry was lost without him.

“That bloke over there hasn’t stopped staring at you since the second we got here,” Niall stated as he nodded his head towards the bar.

Harry followed Niall’s gaze towards a tall, dark haired guy who was sitting on a bar stool, his eyes very much fixed on Harry. “Not interested,” Harry mumbled to his friends as he took a large drink from his beer. He needed something stronger. A night like this, _another_ night without Louis, called for tequila.

“Mate, you’ve gotta get back out there,” Niall said as he watched Harry sink further into his seat.

“That’s what you said about Oliver,” Harry argued. “Look how that turned out.”

“He’s a wreck, ya know,” Zayn chimed in from his spot next to Liam. They were inseparable. Harry had never seen two people fall so fast for each other – except maybe him and Louis. Okay, it had only been him. He needed to remember that. It was only him. Louis couldn’t care less.

“Z,” Liam chided his boyfriend, obviously afraid Harry would lash out at the mention of Louis.

But Zayn continued anyways, his focus all on Harry. “I know he fucked up and you’re hurt, but he’s hurting too.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he slid out of the booth. He needed tequila. Now. “Oh, I’m sure he is. I’m sure he’s crying himself to sleep while he’s out in LA. I’m sure he’s proper sad.”

He ignored the calls from his friends as he walked away and towards the bar. He didn’t need to hear about Louis. He didn’t need to hear all of Zayn’s lies. If Louis really was hurting, if he really was a wreck, he would have followed through and called Harry a month ago like he said he would. Harry refused to be a stupid, naïve little boy anymore. He wasn’t a child, and he needed to realize that the wold wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. This wasn’t the kind of story where he’d get the boy. It was over. Things with Louis were so over.

“A face that pretty should never have a frown on it,” Harry felt a hand fall on his shoulder as the voice whispered in his ear.

He downed the shot of tequila the bartender had just placed in front of him and then turned to meet the eyes of the man who’d been staring him down all night. He wasn’t anything special. His blue eyes were dull, nothing like Louis’ bright ones that resembled the Tenerife Sea. But maybe, just maybe, they would do.

“What’s got you so down, handsome?”

Harry motioned to the bartender for a second shot. He couldn’t very well talk to this guy without enough alcohol coursing through his veins. He downed the shot before opening his mouth. “Just have someone I need to forget about, is all.”

The man’s mouth curved up into a smile that almost made Harry visibly cringe. It wasn’t that he wasn’t attractive, but he was getting a bad vibe from the stranger. It was something about the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of Harry’s body. It was something about the way he wasn’t Louis. “Reckon I could help you out with that.”

“Buy me a few more rounds and then maybe we can go back to yours?” Harry didn’t even know what he was saying. He needed to forget. He’d spent the last month going over and over everything that had ever happened between him and Louis. It was time to just let it all go. It was time to move on. He used to be good at being single. He used to be able to go out and find someone to occupy his night with. He could do this.

The man slid closer to Harry, his hand falling to rest so low on his back that he was practically grabbing his ass. “Anything you want, pet.”

*

Harry was only physically aware of two things: one, he felt like he was being suffocated by the broad chest that was barricading him against the wall, and two, the lips that were all over his neck did not belong to Louis Tomlinson. He’d somehow found himself in the bathroom with the man he’d met while ordering shots. He was fairly sure his name was Cedric. He definitely _remembered_ the guy telling him his name, and he was 95% sure it started with a “c”, but Harry was so beyond drunk that he couldn’t quite remember. They’d been snogging for what felt like eternity. Cedric had Harry trapped between his body and the door, as his hands roamed over Harry’s body and his lips attached themselves to whatever skin was visible. Harry wanted to like it, he’d _tried_ to like it, but every second that passed just reminded him how Louis’ lips used to feel. Every passing second solidified the fact that he wasn’t over Louis, that maybe he’d never be over Louis. And that was the most depressing thought of all.

“Wait,” Harry breathed out as soon as Cedric’s mouth was done attacking his own. He pushed Cedric’s chest when the man pressed back against Harry. “Stop for a...”

“Are you fucking serious?” Cedric interrupted Harry’s words. “You told me if I got you drunk we’d fuck.”

Harry winced at his words. They were all true, he’d said that (or least he’d insinuated as much), but he couldn’t get Louis off his mind and he couldn’t very well keep snogging this guy when all he could see was Louis. “I know, I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Sure you can, kid,” Cedric said as he moved back towards Harry, his lips ready to stake claim.

“No,” Harry said with more force, pushing Cedric off him once again. He mumbled another apology before he escaped the bathroom as fast as he could.

He said a quick goodbye to everyone before he snuck out of the pub and into a cab. He wasn’t thinking as he unlocked his phone and dialed Louis’ number. He’d meant to be stronger than this, but when it came to Louis Harry was all out of strength.

“Harry?” Louis answered the phone on the third ring, out of breath and alert.

“Lou,” Harry’s voice was a mere whisper. He was caught off guard by the sound of Louis’ voice. He’d forgotten how it was his favourite sound ever.

“Are you okay, love? It’s like,” he paused for a moment as he checked the time on his phone. “It’s like 2 am there.”

Harry sighed. “I kissed someone,” he was drunk and somewhere in the back of his head, Harry knew that he probably shouldn’t be sharing this information. What the hell would Louis care anyways?

“Oh,” Louis’ voice was barely audible as he took in Harry’s admission. “So, you just called to rub it in then?”

Harry missed Louis’ words as he paid for the taxi and stumbled towards his building. “What?”

“Are you drunk?”

Harry sighed as he began to climb the stairs to his flat. “I shouldn’t be sad, you know. I should be happy that somebody actually wanted me.”

“I want you, Harold,” Louis breathed into the receiver.

“Bullshit,” Harry countered as he unlocked the door to his flat and headed straight for his bedroom, falling onto the mattress with a grunt. “If you wanted me you wouldn’t have gotten married. You would have kept your promise. You would have actually called me after you sent that text telling me you loved me.”

There was a long pause, silence as Harry tried to catch his breath and Louis tried to comprehend Harry’s words. “You said you’d call,” Harry continued when he grew impatient with the silence. “You told me you fucking loved me and that you’d call. Why didn’t you call, Louis? You don’t have anything to say?” Harry pressed. 

“Niall didn’t tell you then?” 

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Tell me what?”

Louis took a deep breath. “I did call, Harry.”

“What? When?”

“That night, when I got to my hotel. It was really late, like 4 in London. Niall answered your phone.”

Harry sat up quickly as he processed the information. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Louis sighed. “He answered and reamed me out, I mean, I deserved it. But he wouldn’t let me talk to you, told me he wouldn’t let me hurt you anymore. He’s a good friend.”

“Like fuck he’s a good friend,” Harry said through clenched teeth. He’d been looking around for a month, going on and on about how depressed he was that Louis had never called. How could Niall lie to him like that? He quickly scanned through his call log to find that there wasn’t one for the day Louis had called. Niall had deleted it. “Why didn’t you call again? Why haven’t you texted me?”

“Because, fuck, I thought I was doing the right thing. Niall was right, I hurt you so bad and I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” Louis said through a whisper.

“I wanted to hurt you,” Harry confessed. “I wanted to hurt you and forget about you, so I got drunk tonight and let some creep stick his tongue down my throat. Honestly, would have let him fuck me but every time I closed my eyes I just saw you.” Harry could hear Louis inhale a sharp breath. He waited for him to say something, but minutes passed in silence. “Why didn’t you text me while you were in Hawaii?”

“It didn’t feel right. I had so many things I wanted to say to you, and it didn’t feel right to text them to you when she was beside me. I know it sounds stupid, but it’s the truth. I’ve been so confused about everything except my feelings for you.”

“Do you miss me?” Harry felt like a petulant five-year-old with the amount of questions he was asking. But he’d missed Louis’ voice and there were so many questions he needed answers to.

“Of course. I miss you so much,” Louis replied.

Harry couldn’t hold back the whimper that had built up in his chest. Every word that Louis said made his heart beat faster. “I miss you too, Lou. I think about you all the time,” Harry wasn’t quite sure what was wrong with him. He didn’t know why his hand was moving to palm himself over his jeans. This conversation shouldn’t be making him hard, and yet here he was with an uncomfortable tent in his jeans. Admittedly, he hadn’t wanked in weeks – he’d been too sad – but hearing Louis’ voice was enough to turn him on. Louis was always enough.

“I think about you too, Harold,” Louis’ breath was shaky, almost as if he could tell what Harry was doing on the other end of the line.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about your mouth on my cock,” the words were leaving Harry’s mouth before he could stop them. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. He was supposed to be strong. He wasn’t supposed to want this. He wasn’t supposed to want Louis. “I wanted to do so many things with you, to you.”

Louis was basically panting on the other end and Harry thought that maybe he could hear him shuffling out of his pants. He took it as a sign to do the same and shimmied out of his skinny jeans. “Where are you right now?” Louis asked.

“Home, in my bed. Thinking ‘bout when I rode you,” Harry was drunk, and he’d definitely regret this in the morning. But he missed this, he missed Louis. “Where are you?”

“Studio,” Louis said. “Alone at the studio.”

“Are you touching yourself?”

Louis whined at Harry’s question. “Yes. I can’t even count how many times I’ve come at the thought of being with you. You’re all I’ve thought about for the last month.”

Harry moaned at Louis’ confession. “What about when you fuck her?” he didn’t mean it in a harsh way, but the thought of Louis thinking about him while he was fucking his wife made him even harder. “Do you think about me when you’re with her?”

“Every single time, baby,” Louis cried. Harry could practically hear Louis’ fist working his cock. He matched his own hand to his speed. “You’re all I think about. You’re all I want. Just want you. Only you.”

Harry moaned again, bucking his hips up at Louis’ words. “M’gonna come, Lou. Come with me?”

“’Course, baby. Wanna hear you say my name.”

They cried out each other’s names together as they came simultaneously. Harry sank back onto his bed as he let his orgasm wash over him. He almost felt sober again, the weight of the situation and their relationship pressed against his chest once more.

“Harry, what I said in that text, it was the truth,” Louis broke the silence, his voice a whisper. “I love you. I’m in love with you. Fuck, I’m so in love with you.”

Harry’s breathing was heavy, his heart beating a million beats per second. He’d pictured this moment a thousand times in his head, and now that he was finally hearing the words come from Louis’ mouth he was overwhelmed. He loved Louis, of course he loved Louis, but he couldn’t love Louis like this. He couldn’t love him while he had a wife and a whole other world going on around him. He couldn’t love him while he was still so in denial about everything. He needed more. Harry needed so much more than this.

“I love you too, Louis. I have since the night we met I think. But, Louis, I don’t think I can do this.”

“What do you mean?” Louis asked, his voice an octave too high.

Harry took a deep breath. “I can’t wait around for the day you finally decide to choose me, and I can’t just be your thing on the side. It hurts too much. It’s too much, Lou.”

“I’m miserable without you, Harry,” Louis stated, his voice still filled with panic. “I don’t know what to do, but I know I want to be with you.”

Harry sighed. “The difference between you and me is that I want to be with you, _only_ you. And you want to be with me only when you aren’t with her.”

“That’s not true,” Louis countered. “I’m still trying to figure all this out, but I only want you. I just don’t know how to get there.”

“It’s simple,” Harry claimed. “Leave her. End your marriage and be with me. If that’s what you really want, Louis, it shouldn’t be that hard.”

“It’s not that easy.”

Harry sighed again. He’d lost all the fight he once had. “I’m done, Louis. I’m done fighting for you. I love you and this hurts, but it hurts me more to just sit here and wait.”

“Harry,” Louis was in sheer panic now. Harry could hear him trying to get his pants back on as he shuffled around. “Don’t do this, please don’t do this. I love you.”

“I asked you the same thing once. I asked you not to hurt me and you went ahead and hurt me anyways. Goodbye, Louis.”

Harry ended the call before Louis could say anything else. He knew that the more chances he gave Louis to beg him the more he’d be likely to take it all back. It hurt, of course it hurt, but Harry needed to do this for himself. He needed to start protecting himself, protecting his heart.

His phone went off seconds later, Louis’ name jumping up on his screen.

**From: Louis the douchebag  
** **I love you.**

Harry did the only thing he could think of doing. He pressed a few buttons on the screen and deleted Louis’ number from his phone. He needed this, he needed to rid any temptation he would have in the future. He needed to start over. He’d had his heart broken before and had survived, maybe that meant he could do it again. Maybe he wouldn’t make it. Either way, he wasn’t overly sure if he cared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo...any thoughts??


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...
> 
> 1) I am so so soooo sorry for how long everyone has been waiting for this chapter. These are just a bunch of excuses, but the last couple of months have been fucking hell at uni and then I had exams...so I'm just finally settling down and getting the chance to really write again. 
> 
> 2) Thank you so so so much for sticking with me, for continuing to comment, and for showing genuine interest in this story. Thank you for the patience and the curiosity...and mostly, just thank you for being the best readers a girl could ask for :) I love hearing from each and every one of you and I hope you all haven't lost interest since I've gone AWOL.
> 
> 3) Before you lose your shit after reading this chapter...read the end notes ;)

2 months. It had been 2 months since Harry had called Louis, drunk off his arse. It had been 2 months since Harry had deleted his number and vowed to move on with his life. It had been a struggle, of course it had been a struggle. For the first three weeks, Harry had regretting deleted Louis from his life. He’d gone as far as to beg Liam to ask Zayn for Louis’ number, which of course hadn’t worked. Liam and Niall wouldn’t let Harry sink back into his obsession, they wouldn’t let him claw his way back into Louis’ life. After the third week, things had gotten _slightly_ easier. Harry poured all of his energy into his classes and his job. He picked up extra shifts just to fill his time. He avoided any form of social media. He didn’t look at the tabloid covers at the shops. He did absolutely anything in his power to avoid seeing, reading, or hearing Louis. For as far as he was concerned, Louis Tomlinson had never been a staple in his life. Louis Tomlinson didn’t exist. Louis Tomlinson who? 

“Is Mitch coming tonight?” Niall poked his head into Harry’s bedroom, his face full of curiosity. 

 _Mitch._ Mitch was Harry’s latest attempt at forgetting about Louis. Mitch was a frequent customer at the coffee shop. He was all hopeful looks and flirtatious smiles. He was cute, and if Harry hadn’t been hung up on some stupid singer/songwriter for so long, he probably would have pursued the whole thing much earlier. For the past three weeks they’d been on five dates. They’d been to the movies, to dinner, and to all of the other cliché places people who were trying to get to know each other went. They’d snogged on Mitch’s couch. They’d felt each other up on the tube one night when it has been particularly empty. Harry had gone as far as to give Mitch a blow job, but every time Mitch had tried to return the favour, Harry had stopped him. There was something that tightened in Harry’s chest every time he even thought about letting Mitch touch him like that, and he had a scary suspicion that it was because the last pair of lips to touch him so intimately had belonged to Louis. 

 _Louis fucking Tomlinson was ruining_ _his goddamn life._  

“H,” Niall’s voice broke Harry out of his messy thoughts. “Is Mitch coming to the party tonight?”

Harry looked up from the sociology textbook he’d been trying to study for the past hour. He’d been reading the same line over and over again. “Yeah, he’ll be here.”

He watched as Niall smiled and retreated back down the hallway. After Harry had learned about Niall picking up Louis’ phone call and deleting all evidence of it, their friendship had been somewhat rocky. Niall had claimed again and again that he’d only been looking out for him, and no matter how much Harry knew he was telling the truth, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been able to talk to Louis that day if anything would have turned out differently. He knew the answer though, he knew nothing could change the fact that Louis had chosen to be miserable over Harry, no one except louis himself. Harry’s anger towards Niall was thawing a little more each day, because the last thing he’d let Louis Tomlinson do was ruin his relationship with his best friend. He’d already ruined enough. 

*

Harry wasn’t drunk enough. That was all he knew. If he was going to survive this party and the way Mitch was practically hanging off of him, he was going to need so much more tequila. He was doing all he could to live in the moment, to enjoy the way Mitch’s lips felt as they brushed against his neck, but the truth was – Harry just wasn’t in the modd. He hadn’t even wanted to have a party in the first place. But Liam and Niall had insisted on throwing one to celebrate the end of the school year. And any party Niall planned was bound to be huge. Harry wanted to hole himself up in his bedroom. He wanted to hide away from the dozens of people who’d managed to crowd themselves into the tiny flat. But he’d promised he was better. He’d promised he would get drunk and act like a normal human being. He’d promised he’d act like his heart wasn’t still broken into a stupid million little pieces.

“Niall looks like he’s going to kill that guy,” Mitch’s voice broke Harry out of his internal self-pity party. He scanned the room until his eyes landed on Niall. He was standing by the front door, his face bright red in anger and his fists clenched at his side. harry followed Niall’s focus until he saw who was causing the look of pure hatred on Niall’s face. Zayn was barely even through the door, his hands raised in surrender. It took Harry a second too long to process what was happening. All of a sudden he locked eyes with someone who was standing (practically hiding) behind Zayn. Harry froze in place, completely unable to look away from the ocean blue eyes that were glued to him.

“LIAM!” Niall’s voice boomed around the flat, bouncing off every surface. When Liam finally materialized beside him, Niall jabbed a finger into Zayn’s chest. “Your fucking boyfriend brought this piece of shit with him.”

“What the hell, Z?” Liam turned his attention to Zayn, his expression a mixture of shock and anger.

Harry wanted to sink through the floor. He wanted to vanish into thin air. He wanted to be absolutely anywhere else other than in the middle of the living room, locked into some strange fucking staring contest with this biggest douche bag on earth.

“They need to talk, Liam,” Zayn tried to reason.

“Harry doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to,” Liam argued back. “If he wanted to talk to Louis he wouldn’t have blocked his number. Get him the hell out of here.”

“Wait, is that Louis Tomlinson?” Recognition dawned across Mitch’s face as he realized just who was hiding behind Zayn. “What is Louis Tomlinson doing at your party?”

Harry let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in for so long. He peeled his eyes away from Louis and turned to Mitch. “I’ll be right back, okay? Just got to take care of this and then I’ll explain everything.” He made a point to place a quick kiss to Mitch’s mouth. He thought he’d be proud of himself when he took in the way Louis’ entire stance changed, but he didn’t. Harry had succeeded at hurting Louis back, and somehow it only made him feel shittier. 

“Can you guys stop yelling? Everyone’s staring,” Harry muttered as he made his way towards his friends. He stopped when he was in front of Louis. He stared Louis down, using their height difference to his advantage. He wanted to make Louis feel small, he wanted to make Louis feel just as worthless as he’d made Harry feel every chance he got. 

 _Who was he kidding? He didn’t actually want any of that_.

“Let him can stay,” Harry said. “It’s not even worth the fight.”

“H, you can’t be serious,” Niall protested. 

Harry shrugged as he took one final look at Louis and turned on his heel. “M’gonna go get drunk and make out with my boyfriend now.”

Okay, so maybe Mitch wasn’t technically his boyfriend. Maybe he had no intention of ever letting Mitch actually become his boyfriend. But Mitch was the only ammo Harry had left and he damn well planned on using it to hurt Louis in any way possible.  

“Are you okay?” Mitch asked as Harry sat down beside him on the couch, his arm instantly wrapping around Harry’s shoulder.

Harry nodded his head, painting on a smile. “Peachy.”

Mitch’s eyebrows knitted together. “Why is Louis Tomlinson sending me death glares from across the room?”

Harry dared a look across the room, meeting Louis’ eyes instantly. He was standing by the kitchen entrance, leaning against the wall as Zayn incessantly murmured under his breath something for only Louis to hear. Harry held Louis’ stare, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was trying to challenge Louis to be the first one to break or trying to make Louis so uncomfortable that he’d give up and leave. Harry only broke the contact when Mitch detached his arm from Harry’s shoulder and cleared his throat to get his attention.

“Look, Harry, I don’t know what’s going on...” Mitch started.

Harry turned to him just then, panic rising in his chest as he started to think of a million different lies to tell Mitch to ease the suspicion in his voice. “Nothing, just have this sort of like ongoing feud with Mr. Popstar over there. It’s nothing, really,” _okay, maybe he was trying just a little too hard._

Mitch didn’t buy it though, not for a second. “I like you, Harry, I really do, but I can tell I’m not the person in the room you want to be talking to right now. I can tell when someone’s just not that interested.”

Apparently Harry needed Mitch to teach him those skills, because Harry was lacking in that department. He’d let himself think Louis was it for him when Louis had never even given him a second thought.

Harry sighed, placing his hand gently on top of Mitch’s. “I’m sorry. I wish I could explain what’s going on, but...”

It was Mitch’s turn to interrupt him. “You don’t have to be sorry, Harry. I could tell the second I met you that someone had broken your heart, and I don’t know if that someone is Louis Tomlinson or not, and it’s not my place to even ask. But just be honest with me here...should I even be here right now? Or should I go and let you work out whatever it is you need to work out?”

Harry was torn. He had no idea how he was supposed to answer that question. He wanted to move on, he really _really_ did, but he didn’t even know where to start. Just as he’d been starting to feel like he had his feet on solid ground, Louis had walked right back into his life (literally) and that’s all it took for Harry to feel like he was drowning in a pit of quick sand. A part of him wanted to ask Mitch to stay, to hold his hand and make him forget about the blue-eyed arse who was standing on the other side of his flat. But another part of him (a much larger part of him) wanted to walk Mitch to the door, thank him for being so patient and kind, and stop pretending like he ever had a fair chance at moving on.

“Walk me to the door?” Mitch’s voice broke through Harry’s internal battle, making a decision for him.

“You don’t have to go.”

Mitch only smiled as he stood up from the couch, pulling Harry along with him. “It’s okay, Harry. It’s really okay,” he began as they walked towards the door. “I knew your heart was already taken when I met you. But promise me something, yeah?”

“Hmm?” Harry hummed in response. They’d reached the door, Mitch’s hand already reaching for the doorknob.

“Be happy,” Mitch answered simply. “Whether it’s with him, me, alone, or someone else entirely. You deserve to be happy.”

Harry pulled his lips into a small smile, wanting to believe Mitch’s words. Somewhere deep, _deep_ down, he knew he deserved to be happy, but after everything he’d done – after deliberately putting himself in the middle of a relationship, Harry wasn’t sure how much he believed that to be true anymore. He’d done something bad, something he’d never really thought himself capable of doing, and it didn’t matter the reasoning behind any of it. He couldn’t pretend like he’d done it out of love, because that first night, the night at the club, Louis had just been another wet dream. Louis had just been something Harry had wanted to conquer. He’d known that Louis was getting married, he’d known about Eleanor, and yet Harry had sucked him off in the back of the limo anyways. It had always been Harry pursuing Louis, Harry tucking the 5-pound bill with his number in Louis’ back pocket, Harry offering to be something fun for Louis to occupy his time with, Harry begging for Louis to choose him. He should have read the signs, he should have realized how this was all going to play out when he’d been in Louis’ studio, Louis admitting that he couldn’t promise how this would end. He should have backed out when Louis left him in the middle of the night, claiming he couldn’t do _this_ (whatever _this_ was). He should have backed out when Louis had drunk dialed him and told him he was in _loaf_ with him only hours before his wedding. He should have been the bigger man, taken the higher road, yadda yadda yadda, and Harry would live with the guilt for a long time.

*           *           *

Louis couldn’t take his eyes off him. He watched as Harry and Mitch walked to the door, exchanging a few words before Mitch walked, leaving Harry standing alone with his head tucked towards his chin. He wanted to go to him, he wanted to cross the flat and apologize over and over again. He wanted to make Harry listen. There was so much he needed Harry to know, but Louis was well aware of the fact that he had absolutely no right to even say anything. He had absolutely no right to even be here in the first place. But he’d let Zayn talk him into it (okay, maybe he’d been the one to talk Zayn into it). He’d just wanted to _see_ Harry. He’d just wanted to make sure he was okay. It had been the most excruciating two months of Louis’ life, and he’d thought that he just needed to see Harry’s jade eyes looking back at him for the world to stop spinning so fast. He’d been wrong, of course. He was always wrong these days. Seeing Harry had only made everything worse – it had made not being able to talk to him, not being able to touch him or hold him _so much fucking worse._ Louis was sure he was going to go insane before this party was even over, if he hadn’t lost his mind already.

“You have some fucking nerve, ya know?” an Irish accent broke through Louis’ thoughts. He felt the blood drain from his face as he looked up to find Niall standing in front of him. Louis had never really planned on dying before his twenty-seventh birthday, and yet here he was, completely vulnerable to Niall’s murderous glare.

“I don’t want any trouble, Niall,” Louis mumbled quietly as he scanned over the Irish boy’s shoulders, desperately searching for Harry’s curls in the crowd, but he was nowhere in sight.

Niall laughed, but it wasn’t meant to be out of amusement. It was laced with sarcasm, with utter hatred. “Coulda fooled me. I have half a mind to kick your fucking arse right here, right now.”

“I need to talk to him,” Louis was basically begging, but he didn’t have any shame left at this point. He _needed_ to talk to Harry. He _needed_ to explain everything.

Niall shook his head, stepping closer to Louis – practically pinning him against the wall. “You’re not going to talk to him. You’re going to take your pathetic ass and walk out the fucking door, you get me? No one wants you here. _Harry_ doesn’t want you here.”

“Niall...” a third voice interrupted their conversation, and Louis didn’t miss the deepness of it, the familiarity of it.

*

Why was Niall always doing this? Why was he always stepping in and making Harry’s decisions for him? After everything they’d been through with Niall ‘forgetting’ to mention Louis’ phone call to Harry, he would have thought Niall would have been more careful – more aware of when he was stepping in when he had no right to do so. Harry was a big boy, and okay, sure, maybe his friends were tired of him making the wrong decisions for himself – but that didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if they only wanted what was best for him, if they just wanted to protect him and make sure he didn’t get ripped apart all over again. What mattered was what _Harry_ wanted. And right now, he just wanted to know why the fuck Louis Tomlinson had thought it was even remotely okay to be in this flat in the first place.

“Can you give us a minute?” Harry’s question was directed towards Niall, whose face was still painted red with anger.

Niall shook his head. “There’s no fucking way I’m letting this...”

“I was just about to leave anyways,” Louis cut in, side stepping out of where he was squeezed between Niall and the wall. He dared a glance at Harry as he brushed by him, trying to ignore the jolt of electricity that coursed through his body from being just a few inches away from him.

Harry watched as Louis walked away, shuffling towards the door with his head hung low.

“Niall, what the fuck?” Harry sneered as he turned back to his friend. “You can’t keep doing this!”

Niall’s eyes widened in shock. “Are you serious, H? That guy literally broke you, literally fucking broke you. There’s no way in hell I’m going to sit back and watch as you let him back in again.”

“I’m not letting him back in anywhere!” Harry threw his arms up in frustration. “Maybe I need to hear what he’s gotta say, did you ever think of that? Maybe I deserve a little bit of fucking closure?”

As the words left Harry’s mouth, Niall’s posture visibly changed – his shoulders dropping as he tried to take even breaths. “Haz,” his voice was practically a whisper. “I love you, mate. I just don’t want to see you hurt. It kills me to know what he’s done to you.”

Harry smiled slightly, placing a hand on Niall’s shoulder. “I know, Ni, and I love you for that. But you just need to let me do this, yeah? I just need to talk to him. That’s all. I promise.”

Harry took Niall’s silent nod of his head as permission (which okay, he didn’t _really_ need, but it made the whole thing a bit easier). He turned around, eyes scanning the entrance of the flat for Louis, but his eyes only finding a closed door and people he wasn’t sure if he even knew. He wasn’t about to give up though, not yet. He wasn’t quite sure what he was hoping to get out of approaching Louis, but it didn’t really matter. He just needed to be heard. He needed to yell and say the things he’d never said. He needed to ask the questions that had been bouncing around in his head for the past two months. He needed Louis to explain, to be honest, and to just fucking listen. He was done. Harry was _so_ done. Harry was nowhere near done.

Harry was pretty sure it was all a lost cause, but he tugged on his shoes anyways and pulled the door to the flat open. A part of him was hoping Louis would already be gone – that he’d somehow managed to flee the entire building before Harry could catch up. The other part of him wanted to find Louis standing in the hallway, his hands stuffed in his jean jacket pockets as he waited for the elevator. It was that part of Harry that won out.

Harry felt the panic start to rise in his throat as the elevator dinged and the doors started to slide open. He could taste the bile in the back of his throat as Louis took a single step into the elevator, his foot barely even hitting the elevator floor before Harry finally found his voice.

“Louis!”

Louis turned around quickly, his eyes full of surprise (and maybe a bit of hope?). He was frozen; Harry could see the hesitation and bewilderment in Louis’ blue eyes. Louis apparently had no idea what he was supposed to do, because in a matter of seconds the elevator doors started to close and he made no attempt at stopping them.

Harry caught them at the last minute, sticking his arm in between the two doors to stop them from closing completely. “Louis,” he said again, this time quieter, softer – timidly. _What the hell was he even doing?_

“Harry,” Louis’ voice was barely audible as he watched Harry tentatively. His eyes scanning Harry’s face as he tried to figure out if he was actually experiencing this or if it was all just a dream.

They stood in silence for what felt like eternity, only jumping in surprise when the elevator started to obnoxiously buzz from Harry’s arm holding the doors open for too long. Harry wasn’t entirely sure what possessed him to move, but before he knew it he was standing in the elevator next to Louis, watching as the doors closed.

“What are you doing?” Louis asked as he backed up into the corner of the elevator, his eyes wild.

Harry wanted to be offended, wanted to be hurt that Louis seemed to need as much space between them as possible – but he couldn’t be either of those things because he could feel it too, he could feel the sparks and the tension and the unsaid words. It was all too much. It was all too much for such a small space. It was all too much to be in a tiny elevator with the one person he both loved and hated the most.

“You tell me,” Harry finally said. “You’re the one who showed up. You’re the one who broke the months of silence.”

Louis’ eyes flashed with some sort of unreadable emotion before he lowered his gaze to the grimy elevator floor. “I’ve been trying to break the silence for the past 62 days,” he mumbled.

“I blocked your number.”

Louis shrugged as he scrubbed the toe of his converse against the linoleum floor. “Yeah, I figured that much.”

All of a sudden the elevator started descending, causing both Louis and Harry to fall silent as they slowly reached the lobby of the building. The doors opened to reveal three unfamiliar faces who stepped aside, assuming that Louis and Harry were being realistic people who were taking the elevator and not just standing in it awkwardly. Louis was the first to move, the first to step out of the elevator. Harry sighed and followed. They had so much more to say – _he_ had so much more to say.

“Do you wanna go for a walk?” Louis asked, his eyes simultaneously hopeful and scared.

Harry found himself at a crossroads, torn between needing answers and needing to run away as fast and far as he could. He hadn’t even realized he had made a decision until he was following Louis out of the building and down the sidewalk. He let Louis lead them for what felt like forever until they were standing in a parkette, secluded and alone. Louis turned to Harry for the first in the past 10 minutes, for the first time since the elevator, his face defeated with sadness.

“Louis,” Harry was the first one to speak, the first one brave enough to break the silence. “Why did you come tonight?”

Louis sighed heavily before sitting down on the wooden bench, begging Harry with his eyes to sit down beside him. He sighed again when Harry sat right on the edge, as far away from him as possible. “You know why I came.”

Harry rolled his eyes. He didn’t have the time or patience to deal with Louis and his indirect answers. “Don’t put this on me,” Harry’s voice was stern. “Don’t you dare put any of this on me.”

“I’m not,” Louis rushed out. “I’m just saying that you know why I’m here. I told you that much two months ago when you drunk dialed me. I told you that much two months ago when you let me have phone sex with you and then ended things two minutes later.”

Harry leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “None of that makes up for any of the shit you put me through,” he said as he side-glanced at Louis. “None of that was worse than you letting me think you wanted me, that you could possibly fucking love me.”

“I do love you.”

Harry exhaled deeply, hating himself for the wetness that was starting to build in his eyes. “You don’t love me,” he challenged. “You couldn’t possibly love me. If you loved me you would have chosen me. You would have chosen us.”

Louis moved closer, setting every hair on Harry’s bare arms alive with electricity. “Harry,” his voice was shaky, unsure. “I’ve done a lot of awful things, but I swear to god, fuck that ‘cause I don’t even believe in god...I swear on everything heavenly about Yorkshire tea that I love you.”

Harry moved his head out of his hands just then, narrowing his eyes at the man sitting beside him. He could barely see anything in the darkness of the tiny park, but Louis’ blue eyes were like a lighthouse for him. “Did you seriously just compare your supposed love for me to a fucking hot beverage?”

Louis shrugged, a hopeful smile on his lips. “You know how serious I am about my tea.”

He wanted to laugh, he really really did, but that only made Harry even more mad. He wasn’t supposed to find any of this funny – he wasn’t supposed to find a single thing about Louis Tomlinson endearing. “I’m going back to my flat,” Harry said as he started to stand up from the bench. “Don’t follow me. If you’re really do love me than you won’t fucking follow me.”

If Louis had any ounce of decency left in him, he would listen to Harry’s words. But he was Louis Tomlinson, world’s biggest ass face, so he grabbed Harry’s wrist as he tried to walk away. “Harold, please, just listen to me.”

Harry turned around wildly, his eyes fierce with anger and his face flushed with emotion. “No, Louis. You listen to me. I meant it when I told you I was done being your stupid little side bitch. It took me two fucking months to realize I was worth more than that. It took me two fucking months to realize I can do better than this, than you,” he took a shaky breath as he watched Louis’ face fall. Why did that hurt his heart so much? “Fuck, Louis. You know what’s worse than anything else? I don’t even believe that. I don’t even believe that I can do any better than you, because I still fucking love you. I keep hoping that I’ll wake up one day and all those feelings will just be gone.”

“Harry...”

Harry shook his head, he wasn’t done talking. “I need these feelings to be gone. I need you to walk away and leave me alone. If you keep popping back up in my life I’m never going to move on, I’m never going to stop loving you. I need you to go home to your wife and forget about me. Can you please just fucking do that?”

Louis was shaking his head, a smile on his lips that Harry couldn’t even begin to understand. “No, Harold, I can’t do that,” he responded.

“What the fuck do you mean? Why are you so fucking selfish all of the time?”

Louis was downright beaming now, as if there was some sort of inside joke that Harry wasn’t privy to. “I can’t go home to my wife because I moved out of our house 57 days ago. I can’t go home to my wife because she’s not my wife anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...
> 
> I want to hear what you guys think. I've left it on quite the cliffhanger, but before anyone comments about how unrealistic it is that Louis' marriages has ended after only like 3 months, give me a chance to explain everything in the next chapter. 
> 
> Also, don't think I'll be letting Louis off that easily. He has a lot of work to do. 
> 
> Finally, we're starting to wind down. I'm guessing we only have about 2 chapters left :) 
> 
> Please let me know what you're all thinking/feeling <3
> 
> Love you all!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Very, very brief mention of miscarriage 
> 
> Also - prepare for my attempt at smut haha

“I can’t go home to my wife because she’s not my wife anymore.”

The words were swimming around in Harry’s head, dancing and swarming, refusing to slow down and make a single spec of sense. He was frozen in place, his wrist still in Louis’ hand and his eyes glued to the blue ones that were staring back up at him. Had he heard right? _There was no way he’d heard right_. There was no way that Louis fucking Tomlinson had just told him that his marriage was over. Was there? There was no way that was what he’d heard. He obviously needed to get his hearing checked.

Maybe he was going crazy. Maybe he was just hearing what he wanted to hear. Maybe he wasn’t even real at all.

“Harry?” Louis’ voice was trying to break through the cloud of confusion that was currently taking over Harry’s world. He was faintly aware of Louis standing up from the bench; he was faintly aware of the two hands that were now placed firmly on his shoulders. “Harry, say something.”

Harry tried shaking his head in hopes that the fog would clear, but it was a futile attempt. He tried to focus on the way his feet were planted on the ground, on the feeling of Louis’ fingers gripping his shoulders, on the way the lamp in the park was making Louis’ hair look lighter than usual. He tried to focus on the physicality of the world around him, but Louis’ words were still taking over everything else. _She’s not my wife anymore. She’s not my wife anymore. She’s not my wife anymore._

“She’s not your wife anymore,” it was barely there, barely an audible sentence, but Harry managed to force it out of his mouth.

“She’s not my wife anymore,” Louis confirmed, squeezing Harry’s shoulders as the words cascaded around them.

“I’m so...” Harry stumbled over his words. “I’m so confused. What...what happened? When?”

Louis laughed lightly as he guided them back to the bench. “This is why you shouldn’t block numbers on your phone, Harold. You miss out on all the good gossip.”

Harry frowned, his eyes still focused on Louis’ face. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t make this into some joke.”

“Sorry,” Louis sighed. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

They sat in silence, seconds passing achingly slow, as Harry tried to make sense of what was happening. He had so many questions, but he didn’t even know where to begin. He chose the practical one first. “So, you got a divorce?”

Louis nodded his head. “It’s in the works,” he explained. “We’re legally separated right now, but it’ll be finalized soon.”

“What happened? Was it because of me?” Harry didn’t know what answer he wanted. He’d waited and hoped for the day Louis chose him, but he’d never wanted to be this person. He’d never wanted to come in between a marriage. He was so much more than some sleazy homewrecker.

Louis shook his head. “No, love. I mean, yeah, part of it was because I fell in love with you. But, there’s so much more to it than that.”

“Tell me,” he knew he really had no right to demand the personal details of Louis and Eleanor’s failed marriage, but he needed to know. He needed to know if this meant what he thought it meant.

Louis took a deep breath. “Well, for starters, I’m gay,” he laughed as the words left his mouth. It seemed so ridiculous to say out loud, to say to Harry of all people, but it needed to be said. “After I met you, it kind of started to get really hard to deny that little fact about myself. So yeah, having a wife wasn’t really doing it for me.”

Harry’s mouth was set in another frown. “You’re doing it again.” He rolled his eyes when Louis’ quirked an eyebrow in confusion. “You’re making this into a joke. It’s not a joke.”

Louis rushed out another apology before starting to speak again. “Anyways, yeah, so there’s the whole being gay thing. And then there’s the whole me being in love with you thing,” he tried to take Harry’s hand into his own, feeling completely defeated when Harry moved his hand away. “My whole life was a lie, you know? Everything I was doing, everything I was saying, it was all just some stupid lie. Except you. You’re the most real thing that’s ever happened to me, and I couldn’t keep denying that.”

“So, you left her? Just like that?”

Louis shrugged his shoulders, playing with the hem of his jumper as he tried to figure out the right words to use. “After that phone call, when you told me you didn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore, I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t come back home from America and just go back to living my life like that. So, I told her the truth.”

Harry’s eyes widened in shock. “You told her the truth?” he parroted.

Louis nodded. “Yeah, I told her that I’m gay, that I’d met someone else, that I couldn’t keep doing it anymore. I told her that we’d grown apart and that I couldn’t handle the way she seemed to love the fame and the money more than she loved me. You know what the best part of it is?”

“Hmm?”

Louis was laughing now, but it was laced in sarcasm, maybe even just a little bit of disdain. “She’s taking me for everything I have, everything I’m worth. I’m a fucking moron who didn’t make my money hungry fiancée sign a prenup before our wedding. Guess I win the award for biggest fuckwit of the fucking year.”

Harry just sat there, absorbing the immense amount of information that had just been spewed out to him. Louis and Eleanor were getting a divorce. Louis had come out to Eleanor, had admitted to having a fucking affair to Eleanor. What was this universe and how could he get back to real life? There was no way any of this was real. There was no way any of this was actually happening.

“You’re not saying anything,” Louis stated after Harry remained quiet for longer than what is apparently considered to be socially acceptable.

Harry’s head was back in his hands. This was all too much. It was all too much too fast and he didn’t know what he was supposed to think or say or do. “Are you okay?”

Louis was taken aback by the question, that much Harry could tell. “You’re the best human being I’ve ever met. You know that, yeah?”

“Seriously, Lou,” the nickname spilled from his lips by accident. A legal separation didn’t change anything. It sure as hell didn’t mean that Louis deserved Harry’s forgiveness. “How are you holding up? Where are you staying?”

“You’re really worried about me, aren’t you Harold?” Louis caught himself in the joke, straightening the smile on his face immediately. “I’m staying at Zayn’s right now while I look for a flat. Honestly, I don’t really know. I’m okay...I mean, I’m relieved that I’m not hiding who I am anymore, not with her at least. I’m relieved that I was finally able to be honest with myself,” he paused as he gathered his thoughts. “But, I don’t know. Obviously, she hasn’t taken any of this overly well, and obviously she wants to hurt me any way she can. I’m honestly kind of just waiting for the day I wake up and she’s told the whole world the truth. She can take my money, hell, what the fuck do I need it for...but I just, I don’t want her to be the one who outs me to the rest of the world.”

Harry fell silent as he let Louis’ words fall over him and seep into his veins. He’d imagined this very moment millions of times before, but it had never been like this. Louis was supposed to leave Eleanor before it got this messy. He was supposed to leave Eleanor before Harry had given up on him. They were supposed to be together. It was supposed to be them. But now they were just two people sitting on a park bench – practically strangers. Harry had spent the past two months forgetting Louis (trying to forget Louis), and now it felt like everything was falling through his fingers, like he was completely incapable of grasping onto anything. Louis was alone. Harry was alone. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

“I’m so sorry,” Louis’ voice broke the silence. It was small and rushed, but the apology pounded against Harry’s eardrums all the same. “I don’t even know how to tell you just how sorry I am. I should never have gone through with the wedding. I should’ve listened to you, to Zayn, fuck even my baby sister tried to talk me out of it.”

“She did?”

Louis nodded his head. “I told her about you. I mean...she didn’t know _you_ were the one when you met her at the wedding, but she knew that I’d been seeing a guy.”

 _Well then_. Harry hadn’t really been expecting that. He hadn’t expected for Louis to have actually told anyone other than Zayn about his “affair”, especially a member of his family. “Really? How did she take it?”

Louis smiled as he shrugged his shoulders. “Honestly? Fucking brilliantly. Lottie’s been really amazing throughout all of this. My whole family has, really. My mum cried a bit when I told her about the divorce, but she claims it was because she was happy to see me finally living my life for myself. She was a bit peeved that I came out to Lottie before her, but she took it all really well.”

Harry couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out and grasping the one Louis had resting in his lap. He was so fucking proud of how far Louis had come in just a little over two months. “I’m proud of you, Lou,” Harry admitted.

Louis rolled his eyes as he moved his hand so that his fingers were now interlaced with Harry’s. He’d missed this. He’d missed the easy conversation and the feel of Harry’s skin against his own. He’d missed everything about Harry, really. “You shouldn’t be proud of me, Harold. It took me way too long to get my head straight. I fucked up everything with you so bad, and now I’m too late. You have a boyfriend and you’ve moved on, and fuck, I can’t believe I lost you.”

Harry was stuck. Why was Louis always pulling him in a million different directions? Why couldn’t Harry’s heart and brain work together and let him move on? Why was he finding himself itching to tell Louis the truth about Mitch? “Mitch isn’t my boyfriend,” Harry whispered, his words sticking to the night air. “I mean, yeah, we were seeing each other, but it was never like that,” Harry watched as Louis’ eyes met his, as his blue irises reflected hope. “Fuck, Louis, it could have been like that. He’s a really great guy, and I _wanted_ it to be like that, but you fucked that up for me too, y’know? I couldn’t even let the guy give me a fucking blowjob because I couldn’t stand the idea of someone else’s mouth touching me. Even when I was blowing him, all I could think about...”

Louis held up a hand, signally for Harry to stop talking. “Please, Harold, please stop. I can’t, I can’t sit here and listen to you talk about you touching someone else. I just can’t.”

Harry chortled, annoyance dripping from his sarcastic laugh. “Seriously? I waited around the entire time you were on your honeymoon, imagining you screwing your wife, imagining you touching her and moaning her name. For the past two months I haven’t been able to get that image out of my head, and you can’t even handle the fact that I blew some other guy? You can’t even handle the fact that I was thinking of you the entire fucking time, even though I hated you? Even though you were the last fucking thing I wanted to be thinking about?”

“You hate me?”

“Seriously?” Harry sighed, not even bothering to hide the annoyance that was basically seeping from his skin at this point. “That’s all you took from what I just said?”

They fell silent once again. It was the first time Harry could really remember ever feeling truly awkward around Louis. Everything had always been so easy between them (obviously not the situation or their love, but they’d always been able to just _be_ ). But now Harry could feel the tension between them, could literally _feel_ the awkward silence choke him. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t sit here on some park bench pretending like everything was okay. He couldn’t sit in the dark with Louis’ eyes as his only source of light. He couldn’t pretend like he was done. But he was, wasn’t he? He was so done. At least he’d thought he’d been...

“Look, Harry,” Louis once again was the first to break the silence. Harry silently thanked him for his ability to push through the awkwardness. “I still love you, just so you know. Like, I’m so in love with you. I know I fucked up, I know that, but...”

“Stop,” it was Harry’s turn to interrupt Louis. “You have no right to sit here and say this shit to me. You know that, right? You fucked up, Louis. You fucked up so bad, and I can’t. I can’t sit here and listen to you tell me you love me like nothing has changed. You can’t just walk back into my life and expect me to just pick up where we left off!” Harry had a tendency to yell when he was angry, it was something he’d always hated about himself. And the way that Louis seemed to recoil back at his words made Harry hate himself for it even more.

“I don’t expect anything from you, Harry,” Louis sighed. Their fingers were still intertwined, and he gave Harry’s hand a slight squeeze. “I get it, yeah? You have no reason to believe anything I say. You hate me and..”

“I don’t hate you,” Harry said as he squeezed Louis’ hand back. “I _wanted_ to hate you, but I don’t.”

Louis smiled softly at Harry’s words. Maybe it wasn’t much, but it meant the world to Louis. “I don’t want to pick up from where we left off, Harold. Can we just start over? Can you give me the chance to properly court you?”

Harry ripped his hand out of Louis’ just then, his face going blank. “You want to _court_ me? What does that even mean, Louis? You expect me to let you take me out to dinner, bring me flowers, take me to the movies? You think that holding hands in some stupid park is going to fix things? You think that’s what I want? You think that’s what’s going to make things better? You seriously think we can just rewind the past two months and pretend like none of this fucking shit happened?”

Louis pushed his fringe out of his eyes, shaking his head. “I don’t want to forget anything that happened between us. I just want the chance to show you how serious I am about this, how serious I am when I say I’m in love with you.”

“I need you to stop saying that,” Harry mumbled.

“What?”

Harry sighed. “I need you to stop telling me you’re in love with me. I can’t...I can’t handle it, it’s confusing me. I have all this anger towards you, and every time that stupid word leaves your mouth it fucks with my head. I don’t trust you, okay? I don’t believe you when you say it, no matter how much I may want to. And I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to trust you. I don’t know if I’m ever going to believe it when you say you love me, so I need you to stop saying it until I can try to get there.”

“Wait...” Louis was watching Harry carefully, scared that any sudden movement may scare him away. “Are you saying that you’re willing to try? That you want to try to start over?”

Harry’s head was back in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he tried to calm his breathing. He was feeling too many emotions at once – he thought he might explode. “No,” he answered through a shaky voice. “I have no idea what I’m thinking right now, Louis, okay? I have no idea what to say to you or how to feel about any of this. You just showed up after months and threw all this stuff at me, and I can’t process it.”

Louis wanted to reach out and rub his hand in small circles on Harry’s back. He wanted to comfort him, to talk him down from the edge he seemed to be teetering on. But he knew better. He knew that he was the cause of Harry’s distress. He knew that he’d broken this bright, lighthearted boy sitting beside him. When he’d first met him, Harry had been carefree and full of life, and now he was drained of it all. Louis had drained every ounce of Harry out of Harry, and he would hate himself for forever for it. It would always be his biggest regret.

“You’re right,” Louis finally whispered. “I have no right to ask anything of you. I shouldn’t have just shown up and sprung this all on you.”

Harry lifted his head out of his hands as he felt the bench lighten, watching as Louis stood up and looked down on Harry’s slumped figure. “Where are you going?”

Louis shrugged. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for doing this to you. I’m sorry for fucking everything up. I wish I could take it all back. Fuck, I wish everything would have gone so differently. I wish we could start all over again. I think you may be the love of my life,” he paused as he realized they were both crying. This had all gone so terribly wrong. “Sorry, shouldn’t have said that.”

Harry’s mouth hung open, on the verge of attempting to form words, as Louis spun around on his heels and started making his way back to the direction of the party – of his car that was waiting for him in the carpark of Harry’s building. “Louis,” Harry called after him, his heart beating fiercely until Louis stopped and turned back around. “Text me tomorrow. Maybe we can have coffee or something.”

Louis’ pawed at the tears on his face, which were only pouring down harder at Harry’s words. “’Course. Unblock me?”  
Harry waved his phone at Louis. “Already did.”

Louis smiled then, and he could taste the salt of his tears as they fell past his lips. “See you tomorrow, Harold.”

“See you, Lou.”

*            *           *

Louis was nervous. He was all sweaty palms and pounding heart beats. His hands were shaking as he picked the tray of coffees and muffins off the passenger seat of the Porsche. He’d half expected Harry not to respond to his text; he’d half expected Harry to regret every single word that had left his mouth the night before and decide he didn’t want to see Louis at all. But Harry had responded. It had been simple, easy. It was coffee orders and muffin requests. Louis could do this. _He could._ It didn’t matter how badly he wanted to crash his lips against Harry’s or how badly he wanted to profess his love over and over again. He had to start off slow. He would bring a million cups of coffee and a million blueberry muffins if that’s what Harry needed.

Louis raised a shaking fist to the door to Harry’s flat, knocking softly – as if anything louder would scare Harry away. He waited one, two, three seconds before the door was being pulled open, Liam standing on the other side of the threshold. “Uh,” Louis’ mouth was dry. He’d been hoping, praying really, that Harry would be alone. He wasn’t quite ready to deal with the wrath of Liam and Niall just yet. “Hi.”

Liam stepped aside to let Louis into the flat. “Don’t worry, Zayn made me promise to play nice. You’re just lucky Niall isn’t home.”

 _Oh, thank god._ Louis could deal with Liam, but there was something about Niall that actually just scared him. He was probably one of the most loyal people Louis had ever met, and Louis had made the deadly mistake of hearting someone Niall loved. “Look, Liam,” Louis wanted to clear the air, he wanted to make his intentions clear. He needed to rid his journey to Harry’s heart of as many obstacles as possible. “I know you probably hate me, and I really don’t blame you. I know I have a lot of work to do, that I have a lot to prove, but I love him.”

Liam was shaking his head as Louis finished his hurried speech. He clapped a hand on Louis’ shoulder, a faint smile playing at his lips. “I’m not saying you’re in my good books yet, mate, but I’m rooting for you, yeah? Zayn hasn’t shut up about you for the past two months, and honestly, I’ve been waiting for you to come ‘round.”

Louis shrugged. “I wanted to, so bad. But I had to do some things for myself first.”

“Like admit you’re gay?” Liam was full on smiling now, as he joked with Louis. “I get it, I do. But trust me when I say that if you hurt him like that again, Niall won’t be the only one after your head.”

Louis was still thinking of a response when Harry’s bedroom door opened and the curly haired boy made his way down the hallway, a pair of joggers hung low on his hips and a plain white t-shirt still being pulled over his head. Louis all but dropped the tray of coffees in his hands when his eyes soaked in the fern tattoos he’d missed oh so much before they were covered by the thin material.

“Hey,” Harry’s sleep-laced voice filled the silence that was blanketing the living room of the flat. He reached up to scratch the back of his head as he looked between Liam and Louis.

Louis’ voice was caught somewhere in the back of his throat. He was too busy taking in the very essence of what was Harry Styles to even formulate a proper sentence.

“I was just heading out,” Liam jumped at the opportunity to put on his shoes and grab his keys from the little table by the door. “Meeting Zayn for breakfast and all that. Nice to see you, Louis.”

Louis barely even had time to say goodbye to Liam before the door to the flat was opening and closing again, leaving Harry and him alone. He moved passed Harry and made his way to the kitchen, a smile forming on his lips as he heard Harry’s footsteps following close behind. He’d been standing in this very flat only 12 hours ago, and yet it felt like a lifetime had passed. Louis placed the tray of coffee and baked goods on the counter, his mind spinning with the memory of Harry standing between his legs as he was perched on the very same countertop. God, it all felt like ancient history. Louis took a deep breath. The last thing he wanted was for him and Harry to be history. The very last thing he wanted in the world was to have what they shared slip right through his fingers.

“I brought you the muffins you like from that bakery,” Louis was still facing the counter, but he could practically feel Harry standing behind him. He’d missed the jolt of electricity that always seemed to move between them, connecting them always. He’d missed the way that being in the mere presence of Harry seemed to make his entire body come alive. He’d plain, just missed Harry.

“Thanks,” Harry said slowly as he reached around Louis for the bag of muffins. Louis thought his heart had stopped completely just from the close proximity.

Louis spun around, coffee in hand, his eyes immediately falling on the way Harry’s joggers were hanging far too low on his hips (not that Louis was complaining). He shook his head. He needed to think straight, he needed to be thinking about anything other than wanting to sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of Harry’s hipbones.

“You’re staring,” Harry stated through a mouthful of muffin.

Louis could feel his cheeks heat up as he was caught in the act. “Of course I’m staring,” his face went even more red at the admission. “Fuck, sorry, boundaries and shit.”

Harry sighed as he took a sip from his coffee. “It’s okay, Lou. It’s not a big deal.”

Louis was shaking his head. “No, it’s not okay. I want to do this right, I mean, if you’ll let me.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Harry asked as he leaned against the counter, eyeing Louis carefully.

“I don’t know to be honest,” Louis started, panic running through him as he saw Harry’s face fall. “I just want to like, take you out on real dates and make you laugh. I miss your laugh so much.”

Harry studied Louis silently, considering the proposition. They stood there, watching each other in silence and Louis felt his palms get sweatier and sweatier by the second. He needed Harry to say yes, he _needed_ him to let Louis make this right. “Okay, well, first date starts right now then.”

Okay, Louis wasn’t expecting _that._ He’d been hoping for a chance, for the opportunity to plan some sort of grand gesture, but he definitely hadn’t been expecting Harry to be so willing. He’d been expecting a fight, a struggle to prove that he was worth a second chance, and yet here Harry was, giving it willingly.

*             *           *

Harry wasn’t quite sure what he was thinking. He hadn’t really thought this through at all. After his little talk in the park with Louis the night before, he’d come home and locked himself away in his bedroom. He’d spent countless hours googling Louis’ name, Eleanor’s name, anything really to give him some sort of idea of how the last couple months had played out. He’d read tabloid articles on the separation, shaking his head at the ridiculous theories that the so-called journalists had come up with. They’d written theories that Louis had cheated on Eleanor with Millie, using the same stupid picture they’d managed to take the day Louis and Millie had gone shopping together. They’d accused Louis of having a secret love child, of Eleanor spending all of Louis’ money, of Eleanor’s parents driving Louis out of the family. The worst theory Harry had read was that Eleanor had been pregnant at the time of the wedding and had a miscarriage shortly afterwards, inevitably causing tension and ending their relationship. It had all been insanely ridiculous and farfetched, and it had made Harry feel a million times worse for being the actual reason for the pending divorce. He hated that he’d caused all of this, that he’d gotten in the middle of a relationship and had ultimately led to it going up in flames. Louis and Eleanor didn’t deserve any of this, and the last thing Harry deserved was to be happy.

 _Snap out of it_ , Harry thought to himself. Yes, he’d done a bad thing, but that didn’t make him a bad person, and he certainly hadn’t been the only one making poor decisions. He deserved to be happy, he deserved to be with the person who made him happiest. He just had to figure out if that person was still Louis.

“Harry?” Louis’ voice broke him from his inner turmoil. “How about we stay in and watch stuff on Netflix or something? The paps have been following me everywhere lately, and I don’t want them ruining this.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, but there was a faint smile on his lips. “Louis William Tomlinson, are you suggesting Netflix and chill for our first date? How very classy of you.”

Louis threw his head back in laughter, letting the moment of teasing break any of the tension and awkwardness that was threatening to consume them. “Now, now, Harold. I don’t put out on the first date.”

It was all so bloody innocent, and Harry was barely even aware of the way his chest had seemed to tighten in the last thirty seconds. Because well, Harry knew that Louis did indeed put out on the first date. He knew it all too well. “C’mon, we’ve got about 6 seasons to go before we figure out who A is,” Harry chose to keep the mood light as he led Louis to the living room, slumping down into the couch and reaching for the remote.

“I don’t even know what that means,” Louis scoffed as he sat down on the opposite end of the couch. Harry wasn’t sure if he was relieved or a bit put off by the move. A part of him had expected Louis to snuggle up right beside him, to demand to be right in Harry’s personal space, but here they were – lightyears apart '( _okay, really just like 2 feet apart, but it felt like lightyears)_.

“Excuse me?” Harry gasped as he reached for the remote and turned on the television. “How do you not know what that means? Have you been living under a rock for the last 7 years? How do you not know who Aria, Spencer, Hanna and Emily are? How do you not know about Alison?”

Louis’ face was a mask of confusion. “I literally have no idea what you’re even saying right now.”

“Pretty Little Liars, Louis! I’m talking about the greatest teen drama to hit the television in decades! Jesus fucking Christ!”

Louis didn’t waste a second to break out in laughter, holding his stomach as he doubled over in a fit of giggles. He stopped only to take a breath before meeting Harry’s incredulous glare and doubling over all over again.

“What are you laughing at?” Harry demanded, his eyes narrowed as he tried to keep from breaking out in a fit of laughter. It was nearly impossible not to laugh along with Louis, his laugh was basically the common cold – contagious as fuck.

“You!” Louis answered as he finally calmed down, his cheeks rosy from his laughter. “How did I never realize how lame you are?”

“I am not lame!” Harry argued back, but his smile gave him away. He couldn’t hold it back any longer. It just all felt so normal, as if sitting around watching Netflix and bantering with Louis was the most natural thing on earth. He’d missed it, he’d missed Louis every single second for the past two months, and it hit him as strange at how normal it seemed to pick it all up again. He had to remind himself that he was supposed to be angry, that he wasn’t supposed to give in this easily. He had to make Louis work for it, prove that he could be trusted.

Louis was giggling again, and Harry watched in awe as Louis pushed his fringe away from his eyes. He needed to stop thinking about how beautiful Louis was – he needed to keep his head on straight. “Okay, Harold, broaden my horizon. Show me the world of Riverdale, or whatever it’s called.”

“Oh my god, Lou,” Harry whined. “That’s fucking Archie. The liars live in fucking Rosedale.”

Louis waved him off, gesturing for Harry to press play on the first episode. “My bad, love. This is why I need you, I can’t keep these fictional towns straight in my head.”

*

Louis was the epitome of annoying, and Harry was kicking himself for not realizing that he’d be the very last person on earth who would just sit quietly and watch a television show. He’d asked question after question, begging Harry to reveal if Alison was really dead and who A was. They’d made it through three episodes before Harry finally threw his hands up in the air and paused the show, turning to Louis with an annoyed expression (albeit it was feigned and not all that convincing, but still, he was annoyed, _okay?_ ).

“Do you ever shut up?”

Louis gasped, clutching a hand to his chest as he pretended to be offended. “Excuse me for being curious.”

Somewhere in the last 2 and a half hours, Louis and Harry had both migrated to the middle of the couch, as if they were opposite magnets that were just naturally drawn towards one another. There hadn’t been any real purposeful contact, but their thighs were pressed against each other’s and Harry was fairly certain he was going to spontaneously combust just from that small amount of contact alone. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to get used to being so close to Louis without just reaching for him – he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to stop himself from brushing his fingers through his hair or pressing his lips against his neck. It had been so physical between them from the start. It had been stolen kisses and hungry caresses. It had been so much more than that, of course, but Harry had always had an intense desire to touch Louis whenever he was near him.

“Harry,” Louis’ voice was back, except now it was serious and didn’t hold a single trace of humour. Harry could feel a speech coming, and he had to swallow the lump in his throat to prepare himself. “I know I’ve made a million mistakes when it comes to you, to _us_ , and I know it took me a fucking century to figure myself the fuck out...”

“Two months is hardly a century,” Harry mumbled, trying to keep the mood light, and failing.

Louis rolled his eyes as he tsked his tongue to reprimand Harry’s interruption. “I will never be able to explain to you just how sorry I am, but I’ll spend forever showing you, proving to you how sorry I am. Everything has changed for me, Harry, _everything_. I left the person I’ve spent the last seven years of my life with, I’m getting a divorce, I’ve come out to my family. Everything around me is changing, except you. You are still the guy I met at the club. You’re still the guy who helped me realize who I really am. You’re still the first and only guy I ever want to touch. I’ve rethought and overthought so much shit in my life recently, but never you. I know what I want. It’s so fucking clear, Harry. I know that all I want is you. I’ve missed you in every way possible.”

Harry couldn’t form words. His tongue felt fat in his mouth and he basically couldn’t even remember how to use his voice at this point. He didn’t want to be moved by Louis’ words. He wanted to be strong and skeptical, and just not even give a shit. But he cared, of course he cared, it was Louis. Nothing had ever been easy for them and he knew it wasn’t ever really going to be easy, but Louis was here and that meant something. Louis had left Eleanor, he’d been honest with himself and he’d made the first move this time. Wasn’t that all that mattered?

“Harry?”

Right, words, he still hadn’t managed to form any of those. Harry ran his fingers through his curls, wincing as he broke through one particular knot. “Lou,” he took a deep breath. He could do this. “I miss you too. Fuck, I’ve missed everything about you. But, that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t trust you, no matter how much I may want to.”

“All I’m asking for is a chance,” Louis continued, reaching his hand out so he could intertwine his fingers with Harry’s.

Harry paused, taking a few deep breaths as he tried to weigh the pros and cons of what Louis was asking of him. He stared at their fingers, at the way that Louis’ hand fit so well in his, as if it had been put on this world just for Harry to hold. “Okay,” Louis’ face broke out into an eye crinkling grin, and he held up his other hand to silence him before he could interrupt. “But you need to be patient with me, Lou. You need to give me time to get there. And I’m not saying we’re together, I’m just saying we’re dating or whatever. You have a lot of work to do. I expect to be properly wooed.”

“’Course,” Louis breathed as he squeezed Harry’s hand. “I can’t wait to woo you, Harold.”

Harry smiled then, finally letting himself relax into the moment. “I think that’s enough excitement for the first date.”

Louis pouted, and Harry watched as Louis opened his mouth and closed it again a few times before deciding that he was better off not arguing. He settled on a smile and another squeeze of Harry’s hand before getting up from the couch and making his way towards the door. “Thank you, Harry.”

“What for?” Harry asked as he followed close behind.

 Louis looked up as he slipped on his Vans, and there was no way Harry could ignore the shiver that ran down his spine as they stared at each other for a second too long. “For giving me a chance,” Louis explained. “For letting me bring you coffee this morning.”

“Thank you for fighting for me,” Harry heard himself saying the words, as if he was floating above them, not really a part of the conversation. But it was true. He was happy that Louis was putting up a fight, that he wasn’t just walking away. It meant something. It meant _everything._

“Text me?” Louis asked as his hand twisted the doorknob, hesitation lingering in his every movement. He didn’t want to go, but he would – he’d do whatever Harry asked of him, he’d fix this.

Harry nodded his head as he fought with himself internally. His heart and brain were telling him different things, pulling him in different directions like they always did when it came to Louis. He couldn’t think, and he didn’t know what he wanted until Louis already had one foot out the door.

“Wait, Lou?”

Louis turned around, one foot in the hallway of the building and one foot still in Harry’s flat. He didn’t say anything, he just quirked an eyebrow and waited for Harry to say whatever it was he needed to say.

Harry took one large step forward until he was standing right in front of Louis, mere inches separating them. His heart picked up speed, and he just knew that Louis’ had done the same. He could see the way Louis’ chest was heaving, he could feel Louis’ hot breath hit his face. God, he’d missed this. “Don’t I get a kiss goodnight?”

Louis’ lips turned up in a smile, his eyes trained on Harry’s pink mouth. “It’s one o’clock in the afternoon, Harold.”

Harry clenched his jaw in annoyance. Why did Louis always have to be so goddamn sassy? Who was Harry kidding, it was one of the things he loved about him. _Loved_. Fuck. “Louis,” his voice was laced in a warning tone, his jaw still clenched, his heart beating fiercely.

“Sorry, sorry,” Louis rushed out. “I’m an assface and don’t think before I speak. Here you are asking me to fucking kiss you and I say something fucking stupid like...”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up,” and then Harry’s mouth was pressed against Louis’, lips closed and hands trembling as he placed one on Louis’ shoulder. It was soft, gentle and laced with caution. But it was everything Harry had missed in the past two months. He’d missed the way Louis’ lips felt against his own, even when it wasn’t heated and full of tongues battling against each other. He kissed Louis once more, oh so carefully, before backing up and squeezing his eyes shut for a second to recover.

Louis didn’t say anything, he didn’t _need_ to say anything. His face said it all. His eyes were bright and his face was flushed. He reached out and squeezed Harry’s hand once before backing up into the hallway, not taking his eyes off of Harry for a second until Harry finally broke out of his daze and closed the flat door – sending Louis off with a smile and a wave.

Harry didn’t know what he was doing 99 percent of the time, but right now he knew that he was doing the right thing – he knew he was doing the only thing that mattered in this world. He was drinking, breathing and drowning in Louis Tomlinson, and it was fucking bliss.

*           *          *

Only nine hours had passed since Harry’s lips had ghosted across his, and Louis could still feel them. He was sat in front of the television with Zayn, some movie that had seemed remotely interesting on the screen, but Louis couldn’t even remember what it was called or what it was about because he couldn’t stop thinking about Harry and the way he’d kissed him. He couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of Harry’s pink mouth against his, or the way his entire body had warmed just by being so close to Harry. It hadn’t been anything crazy, hell, it had been the most tamed kiss they’d ever had, but it was the perfect reunion. It had felt like coming home after a long tour. It had felt like finally being able to breathe again.

“You’re meeting with the lawyers tomorrow, yeah?” Zayn asked as the ending credits started to roll on the screen. Apparently, Louis had managed to zone out for an entire film. He regretted nothing.

 Ugh, the lawyers. Tomorrow was one of many meetings Louis was going to have to sit through with his lawyer, Eleanor and whoever she’d hired to represent her in their divorce. He was dreading it, absolutely fucking dreading it, but he was also acutely aware of the fact that he was the only one to blame. Louis knew that he could have done about a million and one things to prevent all of this. He could have listened to Zayn, to Lottie, to Harry (fuck, he could have listened to himself). He could have postponed the wedding at the very least while he tried to figure himself out. He could have cancelled before it had all gone so far out of hand. But he’d married her, he’d married her and then he’d proceeded to cheat on her on the very night of their wedding. Louis was basically an A+ individual. He was definitely a model citizen and everything good about the world. But he’d promised himself he’d get back on track – Harry made him want to get back on track.

“Mmm, yeah,” Louis finally responded. “Guess I can kiss my bank account goodbye.”

Zayn patted his friend on the back. He’d been Louis’ support system for the past two months. Sure, his family had been extremely supportive. They’d asked him a million times to move back home and to let them take care of him while the paparazzi and Eleanor’s lawyers tried to dig up every dirty little secret he had to hide. But Louis couldn’t leave London, because that would mean he’d be even further from getting Harry back, and getting Harry back (winning Harry back) was the only thing he cared about anymore. So, he’d become Zayn’s flat mate. They were basically reliving their early twenties – eating take away almost every night, smoking pot on the balcony, and Zayn leaving socks on the doorknob when him and Liam were up to particularly dirty things. It had been fun, and honestly, the only thing that had been remotely wonderful in Louis’ life lately. Until now.

“You know you can stay here for as long as you need,” Zayn said for the millionth time. It was basically his motto at this point, and Louis loved him for it.

Louis didn’t have a chance to respond, his phone’s ringtone interrupting his rehearsed string of thanks and gratitude. Harry’s name flashed across the device’s screen, and Louis was certain he must be dreaming. He fumbled to answer it as quickly as possible, pressing the phone to his ear and taking a deep breath, willing his heart to calm down, before daring to speak.

“Just can’t get enough of me, can you Harold?” Louis really needed to think before he opened his fucking mouth. He really needed to tone down his sass before he drove Harry away again.

Harry let out a soft chuckle, taking away every self-deprecating thought that had been running through Louis’ head. “I was wondering if you were ready for our second date?”

Second date? Hadn’t they just had their first one all of nine hours ago? Louis knew he hadn’t done anything in his lifetime to deserve such a reward, but he would take it anyways. “Want to take a midnight walk?”

“Nope,” Harry popped the “p”, as if he already had something in mind.

“Okayyy,” Louis took the bait, he’d always take Harry’s bait. “What would you like to do, my precious Harold?” Louis threw a pillow at Zayn who was mocking him, acting like some sort of twelve-year-old as he made kissy faces and noises right in Louis’ other ear.

“I was thinking,” Harry started. “I was thinking maybe you’d like to come back to mine.”

 _Oh, well things just got interesting_. It was ten o’clock at night and Harry wanted Louis to come over? Didn’t quite sound like second date material to Louis, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. “Only if we can play scrabble in your bed.” _And yup, Louis had definitely just ruined everything with his stupid fucking mouth._  
“I’d love that,” Harry responded immediately, probably surprising himself more than he surprised Louis. “Bring the snacks and I’ll make some tea.”

 *

Louis didn’t even have a chance to knock on the door to Harry’s flat before it was being pulled open and a large hand was wrapping around his wrist and pulling him inside. It was nearing 11 o’clock, and Harry’s flat was quiet except for the curly haired boy who was practically jumping up and down as he took the shopping bag from Louis’ hand and pulled out his favourite kind of crisps. Maybe they hadn’t really spent that much time together since they’d first met, but Louis remembered every single thing about Harry – he remembered the way he took his coffee, the way he preferred to sleep on the right side of the bed, the way he ran his fingers through his hair as a nervous habit. Louis knew Harry, but more importantly, Harry _knew_ Louis, better than anyone else ever had before. Harry had read him like an open book from the very first night, and Louis had been open to him ever since.

“Took you long enough,” Harry whined as he carried the bag of crisps in one hand and took Louis’ hand in the other, dragging him towards his bedroom. “I’ve got the brewed and scrabble all set up.”

Louis laughed as he willingly let Harry drag him along. It didn’t matter that Louis had to wake up bright and early the next morning to meet with the lawyers and Eleanor, it didn’t matter that he should probably be getting some proper rest before he had to fight for every dollar he had to his name. All that mattered was that Harry had called him – Harry had asked him to come over – Harry _wanted_ to see him.

Harry sat down against his headboard, while Louis sat in front of him, the scrabble board separating them. Harry had a cup of tea waiting on the bedside table for him, and Louis thought that he could reach out and kiss him right there. There was something about the simplicity of all that made his heart swell. It had never been this easy with anyone else – everyone always had a million and one expectations, but all Harry wanted was Louis’ company. He didn’t care about expensive dinners or 100 pound bottles of wine. He was happy to just play board games while drinking tea and eating crisps. Louis could only kick himself for taking Harry’s loveliness for granted before, for not seeing just how different Harry was from everyone else before it was all too late. But Louis would spend a lifetime making up for it – he would make up for lost time and broken hearts. He wouldn’t settle for anything less.

And Louis wasn’t trying to be cheeky, he really wasn’t. It wasn’t his fault that the only word he could make with his tiles was _blow._ He placed the letters down one by one, not daring to meet Harry’s eyes until all four tiles were on the board.

“I wasn’t aware we were playing naughty scrabble,” Harry tsked as he shook his head, a smirk on his face.

Louis shrugged. “Could be referring to a snow blower, or like, blowing bubbles. Not everything has to be dirty, Harold.”

Louis was watching Harry, waiting for him to play his next set of tiles. But Harry wasn’t moving, wasn’t giving any sort of indication that he was planning on taking his turn any time soon. Louis let out a small gasp as Harry raised himself so that he was kneeling on the bed, leaning forward until he was barely even an inch away from Louis. His hands were on the back of Louis’ neck, pulling him close until their mouths crashed against each other. Harry’s lips were eager, moving against Louis’ quickly, his teeth digging into Louis’ bottom lip before swiping his tongue across it, begging for entrance. Louis wanted to dive right in – he wanted to wind his hands into Harry’s curls and dominate the kiss. But he couldn’t do it, not when Harry had just told him earlier that day that he didn’t trust him.

“Harry,” Louis panted as he tried to put some space between them, but Harry chased after his lips. “Harry, wait, one sec...”  
“Are you serious?” Harry was back against the headboard in an instant, his jaw clenched and his eyes hurt. “What the fuck...”

Louis wouldn’t give him the chance to blow his interruption out of proportion. He only had good intentions, and Harry needed to know that. “I want to, trust me, I fucking want to, but I just need to make sure it’s what you want. You said this afternoon that you don’t trust me.”

Harry was back on Louis in an instant, his hands pulling on his hair and his lips moving along the stubble that lined Louis’ jaw. “I don’t,” Harry whispered before digging his teeth into Louis’ earlobe. “But that doesn’t change how much I want you.”

“I don’t want you to regret anything.”

Harry’s mouth was back at Louis’ ear in an instant, his breath hot and sending shivers down Louis’ spine. “Why do you think I asked you to come over?”

Louis’ whole body warmed at the realization that he’d been right, that Harry’s late-night call hadn’t only just been about playing scrabble and drinking tea. He let his hands reach for Harry just then, his fingers grasping at Harry’s hips and pulling him closer. They were both kneeling on the bed, the scrabble board and tiles digging into their knees, but neither of them cared because all that mattered was that their bodies were flush against one another. All that mattered was that Louis could feel Harry’s racing heartbeat against his own.

They kissed like that for eternity (okay, not eternity, but it could have been. Louis would die and fight his way back from hell if that meant he could kiss Harry for eternity). They kissed until they were both out of breath, their chests heaving as they tried to get enough oxygen. They kissed until Louis pushed Harry’s shoulders, laying him out underneath him as he rested on an elbow and hovered above. He’d missed this. He’d missed staring into Harry’s, he’d missed the way they reminded him of the freshly cut Christmas tree his family dragged into their house every holiday season. He’d missed the way Harry felt like home, the way his body felt like Louis’ favourite jumper fresh out of the dryer.

“So beautiful,” Louis cooed as he nudged his nose against Harry’s neck, kissing along the sensitive skin. God, Harry even _tasted_ like home.

He could feel Harry’s hard cock straining underneath his joggers, he could feel it against his own thigh as he moved one leg in between Harry’s thighs. And fuck, Louis was a goner. He grinded his hips down into Harry’s, his own hard cock meeting Harry’s in the most perfect way imaginable. He watched in awe as Harry arched his back, throwing his head back and exposing his neck as he chased after Louis’ hips. They rutted up against each other, moans filling the small space of Harry’s room. They grinded into one another until they couldn’t take it anymore, neither of them wanting it to end just yet – not like this. It had been months since Louis had been this hard, this insatiable, and he wasn’t about to come in his pants like some fucking teenager.

“Wanna eat you out,” Louis rasped into Harry’s ear, his tongue swirling against his skin. He wasn’t sure if the loud moan that strained out of Harry’s throat was from his tongue against his ear or the words that had come out of his mouth. Either way, he needed to hear it again and again. He needed to hear it for the rest of his life.

“Are you...” Harry’s voice trailed off, the unspoken question hanging in the air. Louis was a novice at all of this, and he could see the surprise in Harry’s eyes at his request. But see, Louis had been doing his homework. He’d been so fucking hopeful that Harry would let him back in his life, and he wanted to be ready when the time came. He wanted to be so good for Harry; he wanted to know what he was doing, and he wanted to make Harry feel even just a semblance of how amazing he always made Louis feel.

“Please?” Louis grinded his hips down once more, his eyes never leaving Harry’s. “Wanna taste you, baby. Need to taste you.”

Harry could only nod his head, his pupils wide and his curls stuck to his head with sweat. Louis moved down his body, taking no time in pulling Harry’s joggers down to his ankles, his breath hitching in his throat as he realized Harry hadn’t been wearing boxers underneath. Harry’s cock was hard, pink and fucking beautiful. Louis couldn’t help himself. He dipped his head down and placed a single kiss to the tip, taking a kitten lick at the precome that was starting to leak. God, he’d fucking missed this. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to make it through another second. He was basically ready to explode just from looking at Harry. How could someone be so fucking beautiful?

Louis slowed down, taking his time to place soft kisses on Harry’s stomach, on the inside of his thighs, anywhere he could, really. He wanted to savour the moment. He wanted to memorize every inch of Harry’s skin, not that his body wasn’t already burned into his memory.

“Lou,” Harry whined out as he bucked his hips up. He was clearly overwhelmed, clearly so fucking wrecked by Louis, and Louis thought he could die right then and there and be oh so happy. “I can’t...I need you.”

Louis placed one last kiss on Harry’s dick. “Turn over, baby.”

Louis had expected to have to give himself some sort of internal pep talk. He’d expected to be a ball of nerves, to be completely lost in what to do. But looking at Harry, seeing him laid out in front of him and so ready for him was enough to make him dive right in. He massaged Harry’s ass for a couple of minutes, until Harry was writhing underneath him, his patience running thin. Louis laughed lightly, spreading Harry’s cheeks apart. He was going to burst – there was absolutely no way Louis could do this – there was no way he could taste him and not explode in his pants. But he didn’t care. He’d dreamt of this moment since the day he’d met Harry. He couldn’t even count how many times he’d gotten himself off over the past two months at the very thought of lapping his tongue against Harry’s hole. He’d come all over his own fist at the very idea of poking his tongue into Harry’s body, and fuck, now that he was finally about to do it, Louis thought he might just lose his mind.

And holy fuck, okay, so Harry tasted like a fucking wet dream. Louis moaned as he licked against Harry’s hole, taking his cheeks firmly into his hands and spreading Harry open in front of his face. Fuck, this boy was beautiful – an actual fucking god. He took a deep breath, exhaling across Harry’s hole, and Harry’s response was the best thing Louis had ever witnessed. Harry was writhing, fisting the sheets and moaning into the pillow. It was fucking glorious. Louis licked and lapped, sucking at Harry’s pink hole. Everything they’d ever done together had been pure bliss, but this, this was magic. Louis had never known that making someone else feel good could make him achingly hard. He’d never known that he could come just from touching someone else’s body, but he was absolutely and positively sure that was what was going to happen. He moved a palm underneath Harry’s body, cradling Harry’s swollen balls as he dipped his tongue inside him, moaning into the taste. And fuck, fuck, fuck, this was all too much.

He licked into Harry, dipping his tongue in and out, alternating with fingers and gentle nibbles to his hole, until Harry was practically screaming his name. Louis didn’t back off, he continued to gently squeeze Harry’s balls as he flicked against his hole until Harry was coming, Louis’ name and a string of curses on his lips. Louis came right then, gasping Harry’s name as he came hot in his pants. And fuck, he’d be embarrassed, but how was he supposed to help himself when he’d just tasted perfection? How was he supposed to control himself when a fucking god had just screamed his name while he hit his high?

It was official. Louis had found the gate to heaven and it was Harry fucking Styles.

“I see you only have a first date rule. Note to self, Louis Tomlinson puts out on the second date,” Harry’s voice was a whisper as his head hit the pillow, his hair completely soaked, his face wrecked.

Louis laughed as he blanketed Harry’s body with his own, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. “Only for you, love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we're almost there! One more chapter to go! After I post the last chapter (which hopefully be in the next week or so), I want to hear from you guys on whether or not I should write an epilogue.
> 
> Let me know what you think! I love hearing from each and every one of you :)
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me and for riding this ride with me <3 I've absolutely loved writing this story!


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so first and foremost - I am so so so sorry for taking over 6 months to write and post this chapter. I could list all of the many excuses I have, but I won't because it doesn't change anything. 
> 
> Secondly, this is the LAST chapter!! Can you believe it?! Louis and Harry's story has come to an end! 
> 
> I hope you guys love it! Can't wait to hear what you think!

_One Month Later..._

They weren’t _together together_ , at least that’s what Harry kept trying to tell himself. He hadn’t given Louis the green light yet – he hadn’t agreed to be his boyfriend, no matter how many times Louis hinted at it. But he had to give it to Louis – Louis, the ever so patient person who was making it is his mission in life to win Harry’s trust back. And it was working, okay? It was working so damn well, but Harry just wasn’t ready yet. It had only been a month, and he couldn’t just give in that easily. It was a pride thing.

It was also a Niall thing. Harry didn’t overly care what his friends thought of him, but he needed Niall to be on his side about this, about _being_ with Louis. Louis had spent countless hours at their flat since their reunion, but Harry did his best to schedule their rendezvous when Niall was working or otherwise preoccupied. Of course, there had been brief run ins, where Niall either looked ready to pounce and kill or chose to outright ignore Louis’ existence. But Harry could feel his friend’s resolve breaking, he could see it wearing thin, and he was just waiting for the moment that it cracked completely. In the end, he knew that Niall just wanted him to be happy, and Louis made him happy. Niall would get that, wouldn’t he?

It was one of the brief moments where Harry was completely alone. He was meeting Louis in a couple of hours, and Liam and Niall were both at work. Harry was laying in his bed, thinking about the last 30 days – playing them over and over in his head like a movie. It had been actual bliss. He and Louis had been practically inseparable. They stayed out of the public as much as possible. Louis wasn’t ready to come out to the rest of the world, and Harry knew he had to accept that. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. The last thing Harry wanted to be was some sort of hidden secret, something that Louis had to keep tucked away from his fans. And no matter how ready Harry felt, he knew that that was the last piece of the puzzle that needed to be set in place before he could start a real relationship with Louis. He couldn’t live his life like this forever, no matter how much he loved Louis, he couldn’t keep it all a secret for much longer. It was driving him crazy.

But there was no denying how amazing the last month had been. They’d spent hours laughing, arguing over television programs, and exploring each other. After the first night, when Louis had given him the most amazing rim job ever, Harry had decided that holding back sex just wasn’t an option. Trusting Louis with his body had never been a problem, especially not when Louis was so eager and willing to trust Harry with his in return. Harry could still perfectly recall the first time Louis had asked him if he could bottom for a change. It had been early in the morning on a Sunday, just a week into their rekindled romance. Harry had woken up to Louis already awake, his mouth moving across Harry’s skin and his hand on Harry’s rather swollen cock. He was whispering sweet nothings in Harry’s ear, only really becoming successful at waking Harry up when he whispered, “fuck me, Harold,” before digging his teeth into Harry’s earlobe. Harry had asked over and over again if Louis was sure, but there was no turning back. Louis let him spend an eternity opening him up, first with his tongue and then his fingers. And god, it had all been so perfect. Harry had never been someone’s _first_ before, and the whole experience had brought the two of them that much closer together. It was while Louis was riding him, his pupils blown and his cock leaking, that Harry knew he was absolutely a goner. There was no turning back, there was no denying that Louis Tomlinson was the love of his life. It was only a matter of time before he’d give in and make it all official. There was just a few things that needed attending to first.

Niall, and the media.

Harry’s phone buzzed, indicating a message and waking him from his daydreaming. He grabbed it from beside him, smiling as he took in Louis’ name on the screen.

**From: Loubear <3   
I need to go to my house today...I need some things I left there for work. Will you come with me?**

They’d talked about this, about Eleanor and the divorce. Nothing had been finalized yet. Everything had turned so ugly, and Louis’ lawyers were still fighting to try and save him some of his assets. But they’d never talked about this. They’ve never discussed Harry getting involved in any way, even if it was just a quick trip to the house Louis once had shared with Eleanor. They’d never talked about Harry going anywhere near Eleanor, and yet here Louis was, asking him to come along. Harry was torn between feeling appreciated and loved and feeling downright mortified. If she was home, wouldn’t she put two and two together? Wouldn’t she recognize him from when they met at the wedding? Wouldn’t she murder him with her own two hands when she realized he’d been the one fucking her husband?

But he loved Louis, so of course he had to go. He’d go anywhere with Louis, _for Louis._

**To: Loubear <3 **

**Of course, baby. But if she kills me it’s on your hands**

**From: Loubear <3 **

**I don’t think she’ll be there...but I won’t let her hurt you, love <3 pick you up in 30 mins. Can’t wait to see your pretty face. **

They’d gotten disgusting, they both knew that. They’d gotten cheesy and had picked up every cliché imaginable in the last 30 days. But Harry couldn’t deny the fact that he loved every second of it. He’d always been a hopeless romantic, and Louis was letting him shine bright with it all. Louis would sigh and go on a rant about how he hated pet names, but then a second later he’d be calling Harry “honeybun” and Harry would be putty in Louis’ hands. They’d gone through some shit, there was no doubt that, and Harry didn’t forget it either, but maybe it was possible that it had all made them that much stronger. Because the truth was, they brought out the best in each other, and that’s all Harry had ever wanted in a partner. _Partner_. Well fuck, Harry needed to stop kidding himself and Louis, because that’s what Louis was to him, his partner.

*

“Does she know we’re coming?” they’d been in the car for all of ten minutes and Harry was already freaking out. To be fair, he’d been freaking out since Louis had texted him, but who was keeping track?

Louis laughed at Harry’s question. “You’re cute when you’re scared,” he laughed even louder as Harry began to pout. “I texted her this morning and she didn’t respond. My guess is she’s not even there. Probably visiting her parents or something.”

But Eleanor’s BMW was in the carpark when they pulled up to the gated house. The whole scene was outlandish to Harry. A gate that could only be opened with a security code, a fancy car in the driveway, a ridiculously oversized house with a three-car garage. Sometimes, he forgot he was “not dating” a celebrity. Apart from the Porsche he rode in almost daily, Harry had a tendency to that Louis was even rich at all. But he was, and now that Harry was seeing this house for the first time, he realized Louis had a lot to lose in this divorce. _Millions to lose._

“Maybe I should just wait in the car,” Harry suggested as Louis parked the Porsche beside the BMW. It was a perfect fit, as if the two vehicles had been sitting side by side for years. Of course, they had.

Yup, Harry should just wait in the car. The last thing he wanted was to risk having a full-blown panic attack in front of Eleanor.

But Louis was already out of the car and pulling the passenger door open. He squatted down so that his eyes were level with Harry’s, his hands resting on Harry’s thigh. “It’s okay if you want to wait here, I get it.”

Harry wanted to jump at the opportunity to stay in the car – to stay safe and avoid a possible encounter with Eleanor. But he could see how much Louis needed him. Louis needed him to be brave. He needed him by his side, and that was all Harry had ever really wanted in this world. So, he unfastened his seatbelt, took a deep breath, and climbed out of the car. Louis’ face lit up as Harry reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. They walked to the door, Louis’ palm growing sweatier in Harry’s hand as he rang the doorbell. They waited in silence, except Harry was fairly certain that his heart was beating hard enough for the rest of the world to hear.

After what felt like eternity had passed and no one had answered the door, Louis dug a ring of keys out of his pocket. “What are you doing?” Harry’s voice was high with panic as Louis fit the key into the lock.

“Unlocking the door.”

“But she’s home!”

Louis rolled his eyes. “She didn’t answer the door, so I doubt it. besides, it’s still my house. Last I checked, I was still the one paying the mortgage.”

Harry knew he was being pathetic, but he had a strong guilt complex, okay? He didn’t know if he could face the woman whose life he’d ruined. He didn’t know if he could face any of it, but he’d try – for Louis.

They were barely even a metre into the foyer when Harry’s ears picked up the sounds of moans and grunts coming from deeper into the house. He turned to Louis, who’d obviously heard it too because his eyes were wide and he was moving towards the noises. Harry wanted to stop him, but Louis was too fast and before he could even get his fingers wrapped around Louis’ wrist, they were standing in the kitchen – Harry’s eyes locked on a sight he’d never dreamt of imagining. Eleanor was bent over the marble island, completely naked, as some guy pounded into her from behind. But wait – Harry recognized him – it wasn’t just some guy. It was fucking _Daniel._

“What the fuck?” Louis’ voice filled the room, causing Harry to jump in surprise along with Eleanor and Daniel.

Everything moved so fast, and before Harry even had a second to process any of it, Eleanor was screaming, a silk robe already being wrapped around her naked body. “What are you doing here?! You can’t just walk into my house like this!”

“It’s my fucking house too,” Louis shot back, his voice raised to a volume Harry had never heard before. “I rang the fucking doorbell. I didn’t think you’d be here, let alone fucking one of my groomsmen on the kitchen fucking counter!”

“Like you give a shit, Louis!” Eleanor was still screaming at the top of her lungs. Harry was certain the whole gated community would pick up on the argument and report it as a domestic dispute to the police. _Fucking fantastic._ “That wedding meant fuck all to you!”

Daniel’s eyes met Harry’s just then, his mouth turning up into a sick smile. He fastened the buttons on his jeans before walking up to him, stopping only a few inches away. “I fucking knew it,” Daniel sneered. “When El told me Louis gave all this up to be with some fairy, I knew it was you.”

“Fuck off,” Harry mumbled. He’d hated Daniel since the second they’d met at the club. He’d wanted to punch him in the fact both that night and at Louis’ wedding, but now was not the time. Louis needed him by his side, not getting into a fight with his supposed friend.

“That’s him?” Eleanor’s voice was a whisper now, her attention turned to Harry as she studied his face. “You came to the reception, didn’t you?” She turned back to Louis when Harry didn’t respond. “You brought him to our wedding? How could you do that!”

Louis ignored her question. “I’m just here for some work stuff. I’ll grab it and leave you the fuck alone, yeah?”

He turned to leave the kitchen, but Eleanor shoved him, sending him stumbling into the counter. “You piece of shit! How could you do this to me? do you know how embarrassing it is to have your husband just up and decide he’s gay? Do you have any idea how mortifying it is to barely even be married for a month before having to tell your family you’re getting a divorce? Do you have any idea what I’ve been through! And you!” Eleanor turned to Harry, shoving him backwards a step. “How do you sleep at night?”

“With Louis right beside me,” Harry answered strongly, confidence radiating from his skin. “What about you? How do you sleep at night?”

See, the thing is, Harry had always been good at observing people – he’d always been good at figuring people out with very little information. And the more he thought about everything that had happened in the last two months, and the more he thought about what they’d walked in on just ten minutes ago, the more the pieces fell into place. It was all started to make sense.

“Excuse me?” Eleanor pulled back, her eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“How long have you been sleeping with him?”

Harry’s question made the whole room freeze. Eleanor’s face reddened, her eyes basically bulging out of her head. “How dare you! You’ve been screwing my husband for months. You have no right saying anything to me at all!”

And maybe she was right, but Eleanor’s reaction only made Harry feel like he’d hit the nail right on the head.

“Just answer his question,” Louis was watching them carefully, as if he was cluing in on what Harry was doing.

Eleanor laughed. “What’s happening between us,” she motioned towards Daniel, who was leaning against the counter, watching everything unfold. “This is nothing compared to what you did. I loved you, I wouldn’t have done anything to hurt you.”  
“She’s lying,” Harry stated simply. “I bet you a thousand pounds they’ve been fucking since before we even met.”

“You seriously think I’d throw away seven years for him? Daniel means nothing, he’s just helping me get through a hard time!”

Harry was almost compelled to believe her, almost ready to throw in the towel and apologize for accusing her of being just as bad of a person as he was, but Daniel opened his mouth before he even had a chance.

“What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding me, right now?” All three of them turned to look at Daniel, his face red with anger as he propelled himself away from the counter and towards Eleanor. “I mean nothing? Nine fucking months, and I mean nothing?!”

_Ding Ding Ding._

1 point for Harry, -100 points for Eleanor.

“Nine months? You were cheating on me for half a year before our wedding?” Louis’ voice was calm, surprisingly calm, as he found his way to Harry, gripping his hand tightly in his own as he addressed Eleanor. “You’re trying to take everything from me in this divorce because I was unfaithful, when you were having an affair for fucking months before I ever even met Harry?”

Harry could tell that Eleanor wanted to sink right through the floor – that she wanted to run away and hope that none of this was real. Her precious Danial had just ruined her plans, every single little plan she’d ever had at ruining Louis’ life. There was no way in hell she’d be granted access to his assets now – there was no way in hell she would be getting _anything_.

“Louis, it wasn’t...” her voice trailed off as she tried to think of a lie, anything to regain the upper hand, but she came back empty.

“Why even go through with the wedding?” Louis asked, more out of curiositythan anything.

“Because I loved you.”  
Daniel was laughing now, high pitched and dripping with sarcasm. “She married you for your money, you dipshit. She married you for the fame and the big house.”

Louis’ hand gripped Harry’s even harder, practically cutting off all circulation as he stormed away from the kitchen and deeper into the house. “What are we doing?” Harry asked, his voice shaky from the information they’d just unburied.

“Getting the shit we came here for and getting the fuck out of here,” Louis replied, ignoring the sound of Eleanor calling after him.

Harry let him drag him through the house until they were in what he could only assume had been Louis’ at-home studio. Louis let go of his hand then, throwing notebooks and papers into a box before moving to grab a guitar case. Harry got to it first, taking the instrument in his hands and motioning for Louis to lead the way back to the foyer. Eleanor chased after them as they threw the guitar and box of notebooks into the Porsche, begging Louis to let her explain. Harry sighed in relief when Louis ignored her every word, slamming the driver side door in her face and revving the engine before peeling out of the driveway, leaving her alone in the carpark with tears running down her face.

Harry wanted to say something, to say _anything_ that might ease the tension in Louis’ jawline or at least ease the pressure he was applying to the gas petal. But every word or action he thought of felt like it wasn’t good enough, like it wasn’t enough to ease any of the pain that was probably coursing through Louis’ body. He’d spent months wanting to be the one by Louis’ side, and now that he was there – now that he’d gotten what he’d wanted – Harry was frozen.

*           *         *

_Two Months Later..._

Louis was over it. Okay, maybe not over it over it, but he was fucking done. After Daniel and Eleanor’s affair had become public knowledge, Louis’ lawyers had assured him he wouldn’t lose everything to her. They’d assured him that the divorce would be finalized without his bank account being completely drained. Hell, they’d basically said they could win him the house if he really wanted. But he didn’t. Louis didn’t want any of it. He put the house up for sale only three weeks after learning the truth, and it had sold almost immediately. He’d never liked that house, it had never really felt like home. It had been Eleanor’s vision, Eleanor’s dream mansion. None of it had ever been what Louis had wanted. He’d offered to sell it to her, but she’d moved back home to Manchester the second her affair had hit the tabloids. The worst thing about it all was that he couldn’t even hate her. He wanted to, he really _really_ wanted to hate her, but he’d hurt her just as bad as she’d hurt him. He’d had his own affair. It may not have been going on for nine months, but he’d fallen for someone else while he was supposed to be loving her.

But the thing that got him the most, the thing that kept him up some nights with a pounding heart and bile rising from his stomach was that she’d only stayed with him for the money. She was fully aware of the fact that she didn’t really love him, but fuck she loved the money. And he knew that Harry was different, he _knew_ that Harry didn’t give a single fuck about the fact that Louis was rich, but it didn’t stop the panic from rising in Louis’ body. Because if Eleanor could fake being in love for _years_ just to be able to live a fancy lifestyle, then who was to say that it would never happen to Louis again?

The divorce was going to be finalized in just a matter of weeks, and then Louis could wash his hands of this whole fucking nightmare. He could spend the rest of his life loving Harry, proving to Harry just how much he loved him, and never think about Eleanor Calder again.

_Harry._

Harry had been by his side through it all. They’d been inseparable ever since their scrabble date three months ago, but the last two months had been everything. Harry was patient, kind, and gentle to Louis when Louis needed it the most. He’d gone to meetings with Louis and his lawyer, he’d stood in the background of everything and played the part of Louis’ personal cheerleader. But there was one thing Louis just couldn’t get Harry to be on his side about. He couldn’t get Harry to commit to an official relationship, and that bothered Louis more than anything else that was going on in his life. He’d wasted a lot of time trying to deny his feelings and his sexuality, and he was done wasting time. He wanted to be with Harry, he wanted Harry to be his, and more than anything he wanted to snuggle into him at night with the words _boyfriend_ on his lips. But Harry wasn’t ready, and Louis couldn’t blame him.

*

“So, this would be my little studio,” Louis was walking Harry through a modestly large flat, moving him room to room with a seemingly permanent smile set on his face. “What do you think?”

Harry was looking around them, admiring the exposed brick and the marble island that stood in the center of the kitchen. “It’s great Lou, you should definitely put an offer in,” Harry had been dreaming of this day – the day that Louis finally decided he didn’t want to sleep on Zayn’s spare bed anymore and started looking for his own place. Harry loved Zayn, but between Zayn and Liam always being at the small flat and Niall always being at Harry’s shared flat, they very rarely had any sort of privacy. And Harry _needed_ privacy. He _needed_ a place where he could do all the things he wanted to do to Louis without somebody overhearing. He wanted to make Louis scream his name without having to worry about one of their mates hearing all of it.

“I already did,” Louis broke through Harry’s thoughts. “I mean, I wanted to wait to see what you thought, but the real estate agent said it would sell fast, so I jumped on it,” he was watching Harry closely, trying to gage his reaction. “I hope that’s okay.”  
“Why wouldn’t it be okay?” Harry asked with a quirked eyebrow. “It’s your place, Louis. It doesn’t really matter what I think, does it?”

Harry didn’t see Louis blush often, but right now his face was bright red, and he was looking anywhere except Harry’s eyes. “Well, I, uh...” he stumbled over his words, his eyes finally flitting up as Harry took too large strides forward and placed his hands on Louis’s shoulders.

“What’s going on, baby?”

“I was sort of hoping it wasn’t just going to be _my place_ , you see? I want it to be _our_ place.”

The room fell silent, and Louis was fairly sure if it wasn’t for Harry’s hands holding him in place that he would have sunk through the floor into some unknown abyss. Harry wasn’t saying anything, it didn’t even sound like he was _breathing_ , and Louis just wanted to curl up into a ball and forget about the last five minutes of his life.

“Say something,” Louis finally pleaded after what felt like eternity. “Fucking hell, Harold, please just say _something_.”

Harry let out a deep breath, his hands falling from Louis’ shoulders. “You want me to move in with you?”

“No,” Louis stated. “I want us to move in together, to build a life and a home together. I want this place to be ours from the very first day we get the keys.”

“I can’t afford a mortgage like this, Lou. I’m still in school. I pour coffee for a living.”  
Louis rolled his eyes and perched himself on the island, casually one leg over the other. “You pay an atrocious amount of rent for that flat of yours. That would be enough to pay half the mortgage here. Besides, I make more so I should pay a bit more than you.”

“Your divorce isn’t even finalized yet.”

Okay, so Harry was just going to use any excuse he could find, that much was clear to Louis. But Louis could play this game, he could play it and fucking beat it. “It’ll be finalized before we even get the keys. It’ll be a fresh start.”

Harry finally looked up from the spot he’d been staring at on the hardwood. His eyes were glossy, almost as if he was on the verge of tears. He stared at Louis’ face for a couple of seconds before he took a deep breath and laid his last excuse out on the table. “Weo aren’t even in a legit relationship, Louis.”

Louis had been patient, so patient up until this point. He’d gently proven each one of Harry’s excuses false, had shown Harry that it didn’t matter if he was a poor university student or if his marriage wasn’t legally over, but now? Now he was going to fucking lose it. “The only reason we aren’t a legit couple,” he used air quotes around ‘legit’, his mouth in a straight line. “Is because you won’t fucking say yes to me. I’ve asked you a million times, Harold. I’ve been charming and cute and fucking pathetic, and you keep shooting me down.”

“Because you’re never going to come out of the closet, Louis,” Harry shot back. “Because you’re going to keep me hidden away from your fans and the stupid fucking media until we both get tired of this and one of us calls it off. I keep shooting you down because the last time we tried this I had to stay hidden. I was some fucking dirty secret, and I don’t want that. I want to hold your hand in public and I want to be able to wrap my arms around your waist when you’re taking a million hours deciding what flavour of ice-cream you want at the shop. I want to be able to put my hand on your fucking knee when we’re sat at the café. I don’t want to be this thing in your life that no one fucking knows about.”

“My whole family knows about you.”  
Harry threw his hands up in frustration. “And yet I still haven’t officially met them, have I? You haven’t taken me ‘round to your mum’s for tea. You haven’t even properly introduced me to Lottie. They may know about me, Lou, but they don’t fucking know me. How am I supposed to live with you when you’re still too embarrassed to be seen with me? When you still can’t even introduce me to the most important people in your life?”

“Harry,” Louis jumped off the counter and walked towards Harry, his hands reaching for the ones Harry had hanging by his sides. “I want all that too.”

Harry rolled his eyes, pulling his hands free from Louis’ and turning around so that Louis couldn’t see the tears that were threatening to escape. “Prove it.”  
“Excuse me?”

Harry turned back to him just as a tear was running down his face. “You said you’d prove to me that you love me.”

Louis could feel his frustration running thin, all of his anger and annoyance fading as he watched Harry cry in front of him. “Are you saying I haven’t?”

Harry shook his head. “I know you care about me, obviously I know that. But I still don’t think you’re as committed as I am, that you want this as much as I do. And I can’t keep being the one who works the hardest, who wants this the most. I can’t keep being the person who loves harder than they’re loved in return.”

Louis was in panic mode. He’d watched enough television and had enough life experience to know this sounded too much like a breakup. “Don’t do this, Harry. Please, please don’t do this.”

“I’m not doing anything, Lou,” Harry sighed. “I couldn’t walk away from this even if I wanted. But I can’t move in here, I can’t make a life with you until you’re ready to do the same.”

Louis wanted to argue; he wanted to grab Harry by the shoulders and shake him until he made any sense at all. But he’d been waiting for this. He’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since Harry had let him back into his life. And now it was here, dropping right in front of him and Louis didn’t have a clue how to stop it.

“I’m trying to be patient, Lou,” Harry was talking again, his hands back on Louis’ shoulders. “I know none of this is easy, and maybe you’re not ready. And I feel like a fucking asshole for being pushy, but I just...fuck, I want a life with you so much, Lou. I just, I want it all and I don’t think I’m willing to compromise. Not on this.”

“I’d do anything for you Harold,” Louis was crying, both out of relief and fear of losing Harry. “Absolutely anything. Just give me some time.”

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis, pulling him close to his chest. Harry’s lips fell against the top of Louis’ head. “Okay,” he whispered against his hair.

“I love you,” Louis whispered the words quietly. He hadn’t tried to profess his love since the night in the park when everything Harry had begged him to not say it until everything was fixed. Things weren’t fixed yet, but he needed Harry to know that his feelings weren’t going anywhere. They’d never go anywhere.

“I love you too, Louis.”

*           *          *

_3 weeks later..._

Harry had been keeping Louis at arm’s length ever since Louis had asked him to move in with him, and it had been nothing but painful. They’d seen each other only a handful of times. Harry had tried to keep things light – but somehow they always ended up wrapped around each other and whispering sweet nothings into the darkness of Harry’s bedroom. The divorce was finalized, which made Louis officially a single man. Harry wanted to scream his love for Louis from the mountaintops, but he couldn’t, not until things changed.

Harry was barely a foot inside of his flat when he heard Louis’ laughter over the sound of the music playing through his headphones. Harry slipped off his boots, his curiosity burning. It was nine o’clock at night, he’d just finished working a double, and he hadn’t heard from Louis all day.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the living room, his jaw dropping as he took in the scene in front of him. Louis was sat on the sofa, a beer in his hand and a smile on his face. Niall was on the chair across from him, his cheeks rosy and Harry wasn’t sure if it was from the beer at his lips or the big smile on his face. Either way, Harry was fairly certain he must be dead, because there was no way that Niall and Louis were laughing over a couple of beers. There was absolutely no way – the last Harry had checked, Niall had hated Louis with every fiber of his being.

“Harry!” Niall jumped from his chair when he realized he was watched. “Just the guy I wanted to talk to!”

“What’s going on?” Harry’s eyes were on Louis, who had his arm resting on the back of the sofa as he watched Harry with a smile on his face.

Niall held a beer out to Harry, motioning for him to sit down and join them. “Your boyfriend and I were just catching up.”

“Pretty sure he’s not my boyfriend.”

Niall laughed as he fell back into his chair. “We’ve been discussing that actually, and we both agree that you’re wrong.”

“Oh?” Harry looked between Niall and Louis as he sat down beside Louis. “And why’s that?”

Louis’ arm wound its way around Harry’s shoulders, pulling him close against his side. “Because I’m fairly awesome if I do say so myself.”

Niall rolled his eyes. “And ever so modest.” He turned his attention back to Harry. “But seriously, H. why are you being such a twat?”

“I’m not the one being a twat.”

Niall threw his hands up in the air in feigned frustration. “Give the man a little break! He left his wife for you, you little fucker.”

“Since when are you on his side?” Harry asked, his eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

“Since he showed up with a case of beer and told me how much he loves you!”

Harry had absolutely no resolve when it came to Louis – not since the very beginning. He wanted nothing more than to stand his ground and refuse to give in, but Louis was here, trying (and succeeding) to patch things up with Niall. He was professing his love and being amazing, and Harry was three seconds away from throwing all of his belongings into a garbage bag and following Louis home. instead, he took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his curls.

“Tomorrow’s the big move?” he asked Louis as he pushed his hair away from his face.

Niall sighed in disappointment at the change of subject, but Harry was thankful that Louis just smiled and nodded his head. “Yup. You still going to help?”

Of course he was, he would do anything Louis asked of him – except move in and start a life filled with secrecy. Harry wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t stay hidden forever. He couldn’t pretend like his and Louis’ love wasn’t meant to be screamed from the mountaintops. But he also couldn’t live without Louis. He knew he had a decision to make, and every passing day made his heart hurt just a little bit more. Stay Louis’ best kept secret or live without the love of his life. Harry wasn’t ready to make that choice – he’d never be ready.

*

“Louis! Louis!” When Harry had agreed to help Louis move he hadn’t been prepared for the crowd of fans that had followed them to the new flat. He hadn’t been prepared for the flashing lights from cellphone cameras or the dozens of screaming girls. He’d been naïve. He was always naïve.

“They’re insane,” Harry stated as he leaned against Louis’ new kitchen island and took a long drink of water. “They haven’t stopped screaming since we showed up.”

Louis shrugged his shoulders, somewhat distracted as he instructed one of the movers on where to put a specific box. “They’re loyal.”  
“They’re mental,” harry argued back. “One of them pinched my bum!”

“You can’t exactly blame them, now can you?” Louis commented as he tore into a box of dinner plates. “It _is_ a rather nice bum.”

“They probably think I’m your mate, just helping you move into your flat while we drink pints and do manly things,” Harry muttered under his breath. He was trying – _okay_? He really _really_ was. But he was close to his breaking point, and it was only a matter of time. He wasn’t sure if Louis had heard him. He hadn’t said it that quietly, but if he had heard him he was pretending like he hadn’t. Pretending was Louis’ forte after all.

Louis put the last dinner plate away before turning to Harry, his eyebrows knit together with worry but a smile on his face. “How ‘bout we unpack and then break in my new bed?”

Harry would do anything to away the worry lines from Louis’ forehead. He’d do anything to make the smile on his face genuine. He’d do anything for Louis, _period_.

“Sounds like a plan.”

*

It felt like they’d been unpacking boxes for forever, although Harry knew he was mostly being dramatic. The crowds of screaming girls had finally given up  and dispersed, but that hadn’t really set him at ease. He was on edge. He couldn’t help it. Louis kept making not so subtle comments. Harry had unpacked a toothbrush holder and Louis had been quick to let out: “not much use for that if it’s just gonna hold one toothbrush, now is there?” Later, as Harry was helping Louis put clothes in the closet, Louis had signed, stating that he didn’t have enough clothes to fill the walk in, and Harry had almost lost his mind. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to live with Louis – he most certainly did want to live with Louis – but not like this. not when no one even knew the truth. Not when he couldn’t even bring his boyfriend’s (or non boyfriend, or whatever the hell they were) hand when walking outside their flat. He couldn’t live with Louis when the rest of the world had no idea who he was, or who Louis even was for that matter. Hiding was exhausting, and Harry didn’t want to be exhausted anymore.

“Earth to Harry?” a pair of arms wound around Harry’s waist, and he was shaken out of his reverie by the feeling of Louis’ chest pressing into his own back.

“Hmm?” it didn’t matter how frustrated Harry was with Louis or with their situation in general, being this close to him would always make his head spin.

“You disappeared on me,” Louis tsked before placing his chin on Harry’s shoulder, turning his head so he could place a small kiss to Harry’s neck. “You alright?”

Harry screwed his eyes shut, trying to enjoy the moment while he could. He knew the second he opened his mouth and confessed his insecurities to Louis that the calm would vanish.

“Harry?” Louis’ voice surged through him again, this time laced with concern. “Harry, what’s going on?”

By the time Harry opened his eyes, Louis had moved so that he was standing in front of him, his hands placed on Harry’s shoulders. “Talk to me, Harold.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, a feeble attempt to procrastinate responding. “I’m fine, Lou.”

Louis rolled his eyes dramatically, in true Louis fashion. “You’re not _fine_. You’ve been quiet and detached all day. And don’t think I’ve missed all of your snarky comments.”

Harry rolled his eyes in return. “Just like I haven’t missed all of your pathetic attempts at making me feel guilty for not moving in with you.”

Louis’ eyes narrowed in annoyance. “I _have not_ been trying to make you feel guilty.”

“Louis,” Harry took a step back, his hand instinctively moving to his hair again. “I’m tired.”

“So go home,” Louis quipped back. “Get some sleep.”  
Harry shook his head in response. “That’ not what I meant, Lou...”

“I know,” Louis sighed as he sat down on a barstool that lined the kitchen island. “Can we start slow? What about dinner with Lottie next weekend?”

Harry looked up from the speck of dust he’d been staring at on the island countertop, his eyes meeting Louis’ instantly. “Actually?”

Louis nodded his head as he hopped off the stool and took a step towards him, closing the distance once again.

“And you’d introduce me as what exactly?”

Louis smiled sweetly as he ran his fingers along Harry’s sharp jaw. “Well, I _was_ hoping I’d be introducing you as my boyfriend, but you’re being a tad stubborn.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but a shiver ran through him as Louis attached his mouth to his jaw. “You want to?” Harry gasped slightly as Louis bit down on his skin before replacing his teeth with his tongue.

“I want to what, sweetheart?” Louis broke his contact only to ask the question, immediately returning to his attack on Harry’s sensitive skin.

Harry screwed his eyes shut, putting all of his focus on the words he was trying to say. “You want to tell Lottie I’m your boyfriend?”

Louis laughed, ending his assault on Harry’s jaw. “You’re daft, you know that right?” When Harry only raised his eyebrows in question, Louis continued. “I already told her you’re my boyfriend. I told my whole family that you’re my boyfriend. The only person who doesn’t know you’re my boyfriend is _you_.”

Harry took a step back from Louis, his chest filling with anxiety as Louis’ words washed over him. He was right. Even though Harry had pulled back slightly since rejecting Louis’ in invitation to move in with him, they very much acted as if they were in an established relationship. It didn’t matter how much Harry refused to put a label on their situation. it didn’t matter how much he refused to call Louis his boyfriend because that was exactly what he treated him like. How could Harry even be frustrated with Louis when he was the one sending all of the mixed signals?

“I want to, Lou, I really _really_ do.”

Louis sighed as he perched himself ontop the kitchen counter. “But what? Because there’s most definitely a “but” coming, isn’t there?”

Harry was quiet for a long time, so long that he was fairly certain time had started to stand still. He dug his hands deep into the pockets of his skinny jeans, his chest threatening to spontaneously combust with anxiety at any given moment. “I’m tiredm” he repeated from earlier, but this time he meant psychologically (and probably, no – certainly, emotionally tired too). “I’m gonna head home and get some sleep.  We’ll talk tomorrow, alright?”

Louis stared him down as he crossed his legs, his facial expression impassive and unreadable. “You do you, Harold. Get some sleep. Hopefully you won’t wake up in your pissy pants tomorrow.”

“Lou...”

Louis pushed himself off the counter just then, a warm smile spreading slightly across his face. “I love you, Harold,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, pulling him close.”

“I love you too,” Harry said into Louis’ hair, leaving a kiss before walking out the flat door and into the night breeze. He was thankful that there weren’t any fans standing outside, that there was no one there to bombard him with questions about Louis, questions that didn’t even cover half of the story. He couldn’t deal with anything more tonight. He needed Niall and Liam – and maybe a bottle of tequila.

*           *          *

It had been four days since their conversation in Louis’ new kitchen, and Harry was still just as lost as ever. Dinne with Lottie was only three days away, and he really had no idea what he was feeling. On the one hand he was more then thrilled to finally be meeting a member of Louis’ family as more than just a friend, but on the other hand he was hesistant. It was clear that Louis wasn’t ready to tell the world about his sexuality, and Harry worried that maybe was pushing too hard. Harry was beyond terrified of losing Louis all over agai. He was beyond petrified that Louis was going to wake up one morning and decide that he was fed up with Harry’s impatience. And Harry wasn’t sure if he could even blame him if that were to happen.

Harry was working the opening shift at he café, the radio filling the quiet space now that the morning rush was over. He hadn’t been paying much attention to to it, opting to read the novel he’d brought with him instead. He was just getting lost in the words of Jane Austen when the radio broke through his focus, Nick Grimshaw’s voice annoying his next guest.

“Coming up next is Louis Tomlinson’s “No Control”, and then we’ll hear from Louis himself as he joins me here at Radio1 to talk about what’s next in his career now that he’s newly single.”

Harry put his book down and turned to face the radio fully. Louis hadn’t mentioned anything about being on the radio today, which Harry found fairly odd since he’d woken up in Louis’ bed just a few hours ago. He squashed any nagging feeling down as “No Control” filled the café. It was still far too poppy for Harry’s taste, but now that he was in love with the man singing it he couldn’t help but love the song. He’d be Louis’ number one fan if Louis just let him.

Grimshaw’s voice filled the airway the second the song was over. “What a song Louis. Ladies and gent, we’ve got Louis Tomlinson with us for a few minutes this morning. Let’s just get right into it. How does that sound, Louis?”

“Brilliant,” Louis’ voice filled Harry’s ear drums, immediately putting a smile on his face.

“Everyone has heard about your divorce from longtime girlfriend Eleanor Calder,” Grimshaw began, making Harry roll his eyes at the ridiculously blunt statement. Why did the world care so much about the personal lives of famous people?

“Don’t waste any time, now do you Grimmy?” To anyone else Louis sounded up beat and cordial, but Harry knew him well enough to pick up on the sarcasm.

Nick Grimshaw laughed, either not sensing Louis’ sarcasm or just not giving a fuck (Harry guessed it was the latter). “There’s been an endless supply of rumours circling the internet since the big break up. How about you clear the air for all of us?”

“Well, sometimes people grow apart,” Louis began, and Harry could hear the hesitancy in his words. “Eleanor and I fell in love when we were kids, and we’ve both changed so much since we were eighteen.”

“Is it true she had an affair?”

And that was it – if Harry could leave the café he would be marching into Nick Grimshaw’s studio and kicking his ass. How dare he ask such personal questions. How dare he think he had even a bit of a right to such personal information about Louis.

Louis cleared his throat awkwardly but answered the question nonetheless. “If I’m being honest, we both made some mistakes. Actually, I take that back. I didn’t make a mistake. I hurt someone I cared deeply about, and I’ll always be sorry for that, but for me it wasn’t a mistake.”

“Care to elaborate?” Grimshaw asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

“I met someone, someone I fell in love with,” Louis stated simply, and Harry’s heart swelled with adoration. “Someone who made me realize who I really am, and I could never, ever regret that.”

There was a brief pause, almost as if Grimshaw was deciding what direction to steer the conversation (the inquisition). “And are you still with this person?”

“Harry, his name is Harry,” and Harry was fairly certain that a few simple words had never sent him so far over the edge before. He’d never thought he’d hear his name over the radio before, and he never, _ever_ thought he’d be hearing Louis saying it like he currently was.

There was a longer pause this time, and Harry could just imagine the look of utter shock and disbelief on Nick Grimshaw’s face as he took in this new piece of information. “Oh, I didn’t...”

Louis’ cut him off before he could finish his train of thought. “I’m giving you some inclusive content here, Grimmy. Do you want it?”

“Of course.”

“Well then, let it be known that Radio1 got this hot new gossip before anyone else,” Harry could hear the smile on Louis’ face. “I’m gay and I’m in love with a very smart, and very attractive guy named Harry.”

And wait, _what?_ Did Louis really just come out on the radio? Did he really just come out live on air and then proclaim his love for Harry? Louis had been full of promises of wooing and grand gestures for what had felt like forever, and here he was, doing just that. Harry had woken up hours ago with the weight of the end sitting heavy on his chest, but it was like it had just vanished. It was as if Louis’ words had just taken away all of his worries and fears.

“Well, I’m happy for you, mate,” Grimshaw broke the silence. “I think I can speak for all fans listening when I ask what’s next?”

Harry could hear Louis take a deep breath. “For the first time in a long time I feel like I’m really myself. I’m excited for the future and I’m not worried about the mistakes I made in the past. Right now, I just want to take a break from everything else and just learn what it’s really like to properly love someone and be loved by him.”

“Are you telling us that you’re taking a break from your music career?”

_No, don’t do this Lou, not for me._

“Yes,” Louis answered quickly. “But just for the moment. I don’t really have any long-term plans. I’m just taking life day by day for right now. It’s been so long since I’ve felt like myself and I’m just enjoying every moment. I’m so excited to see what the future holds, with Harry and with my music. But I promise I’ll be making new music soon.”

“Can we expect some sappy and corny love songs?” Grimshaw asked with a chuckle.

Louis laughed along. “Oh, I’ve definitely already written a few. The next album is definitely going to be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever recorded. You can thank Harry and his adorable dimples for that.”

*

“I’ll pay you three hundred pounds to drive as fast as you can,” Louis offered the taxi driver the second he climbed into the backseat. “I need to get to the Café Botanica on Essex Court ASAP.”

His whole body was shaking, his hands barely even able to rest on his knees as he stared out the window of the cab. He’d wanted to call Harry the second he’d left Radio1, but he’d forced himself not to. He’d wanted to call him and see if he’d been listening to the radio, to see if he’d heard everything he’d said, but he didn’t. He had to see Harry, had to look him in the eyes and tell him that everything he’d said had been the truth. He was in love – so incredibly in love with Harry and now the whole world knew (okay, everyone who’d been listening to the radio knew). But it was a start.

His cellphone broke him out of his thoughts as it began to vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked down at the caller ID, his stomach twisting in knots as he anticipated seeing Harry’s name but found his mom’s instead.

“Louis,” his mom said the second Louis answered the phone. “Louis, love, I’m so proud of you.”

Louis smiled as he turned his attention back out the window, watching the streets of London buzz past him. He’d be at the café in no time. “Thanks mum. It wasn’t too much?”

“Not at all. It was perfect. Have you talked to Harry yet?”

“I’m on my way to see him right now. I don’t even know if he was listening.”

“Oh, Lou, don’t be so worried,” his mom always knew the right thing to say, always knew just how to calm him down. “Call me later, I want to hear all about it. And bring that boy home soon, yeah? I can’t wait to meet my son’s soulmate.”

Louis groaned half-heartedly before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. He couldn’t wait for Harry to meet his mom either. He couldn’t wait for them to be in the same room, to watch them laugh together, to watch them open Christmas presents together and sing “Happy Birthday” to each other. And okay, Louis was getting a little ahead of himself. But who could blame him? Who could blame him for thinking about the future when he had the most amazing man standing beside him? Who could blame him for wanting to spend the rest of his life loving Harry Styles?

Louis only shook himself from his thoughts when the cab was pulling up outside of Harry’s work. He was nervous all over again, absolutely shaking out of fear of god knows what. He wasn’t scared of Harry, and he certainly wasn’t scared of telling Harry he loved him. But maybe, just maybe he was scared of how real all of this was getting. Maybe he was scared that he’d finally come out to the rest of the world and now Harry was going to turn him down. Maybe he was worried that he’d finally found the person he was meant to spend the rest of eternity with, but he’d spent too much time fucking around and had ruined it all. Or maybe he was just worried that his heart was going to explode from the love he felt for Harry.

The door chimed as Louis walked into the café, announcing his arrival and stirring Harry from where he was pacing behind the counter. The café was quiet, not a single customer sitting at one of the several tables, and Louis was grateful that he at least got to do this bit in private. Harry stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes landed on Louis, his whole body freezing as he watched Louis walk behind the counter, only stopping when he was barely a foot in front of Harry.

“Hi,” Louis whispered, his voice trembling from the nerves that were coursing through his veins.

“Hi,” Harry mirrored back, his hands moving to his curls just like they always did when he was nervous.

Louis’ ears perked at the sound of the radio playing over the café speakers, his heart pounding with the realization that Harry had been listening to Radio1 after all. “How long have you been listening to that?”

Harry’s mouth twitched, a hint of his famous smirk playing at his lips. “Long enough to know that you think my dimples are adorable.”

Louis rolled his eyes but silently thanked Harry for breaking the tension with his humour. “Remember that first night? When we were in the bathroom at that club and you asked me if I thought you were special because I apologized to you when I never apologize to anyone?”

Harry nodded his head in response as he took a step forward and closed the distance between them, his hand resting on Louis’ waistline.

“I knew you were special the second I saw you,” Louis chuckled at his own words. “I know it sounds cheesy and pathetic, but I just knew. I’d never thought about being with a guy before, but then I saw you and I just knew. God, I would have let you kiss me right then and there if Zayn hadn’t walked in. I was a goner for you the second I met you, and I’m so fucking sorry that it took me this long to realize you’re it for me.”

Harry took a shaky breath as he placed his other hand on Louis’ waist, pulling his chest flush against his own. “You’re it for me too, Lou. I’ve loved you since I saw you whip out your dick at that urinal.”

Louis threw his head back in laughter at Harry’s ridiculous sentiment. “How ‘bout I take you home to meet my mum tomorrow?”

Harry’s face broke into the most brilliant smile Louis had ever seen in his life. It was so bright, and it made Louis realize that Harry was the literal sun. He was his sun. “I’d love that.”

“Would it be okay if I introduced you as my boyfriend?”

Harry smiled even brighter before he leaned forward and ghosted his lips over Louis’. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, _boyfriend_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I write an epilogue? Do you want to hear more about what happens for Harry and Louis in the next 5 years or so? Will there be a wedding? Kids? 
> 
> Let me know if I should write one :)
> 
> Love you all xx


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised - the epilogue and final instalment of "Baby, You're Perfect"

_Three Years Later..._

Louis winked at Harry from where they stood across from each other at the altar, the only things separating them were a couple of feet and an officiator. Harry would never get tired of seeing Louis in a tux, it was simply the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. He watched with a smile on his face as Louis fiddled with his boutonniere, nervously playing with it until he was absolutely certain that it was sitting straight on his tux jacket. They’d been together, really truly _together_ , for three years now and Harry would never get tired of watching Louis. Louis was everything, was _his everything_ , and the thought of spending forever with Louis made Harry’s heart sing.

The music broke Harry from his thoughts, and he finally turned his attention to the end of the aisle where Liam was now walking towards them with a giant smile on his face. Harry had spent the last three years watching Zayn and Liam’s love grow, and he’d jumped for literal joy when he’d asked Harry to be his best man at the wedding. Of course, Niall had put up a fuss, but that was only until Liam had promised him he’d be one of the groomsmen and in charge of bachelor party planning. And now they were all standing up there – Louis as Zayn’s best man, Harry as Liam’s and Niall standing right behind Harry, incessantly poking at him and whispering every single one of his ridiculous thoughts into his ear. But it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

*

“You’re so beautiful,” Louis cooed as he tightened his arms around Harry’s neck and swayed to the music. “How’d I get so lucky?”

Harry laughed as they danced amongst the other couples at Zayn and Liam’s wedding. “Pretty sure I’m the lucky one, baby.”

Louis nodded his head in the direction of where Zayn and Liam were dancing just a few feet away. They were tucked into each other, pure bliss radiating from them as they stared into each other’s eyes. “They’re so fucking happy.”

“It’s absolutely disgusting.”

Louis shrugged as he turned his attention back to Harry, his fingers twirling around the curls at the nape of his neck. “I was about to say we should do this next, but if you think it’s disgusting then I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Harry’s eyes snapped to Louis’, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “You want to get married?”

“Don’t act so surprised, sweetheart. Of course I want to marry you. I’ve had this ongoing fantasy of calling you Harry Tomlinson while you suck me off.”

Harry rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance. “This is the most romantic proposal ever.”

Louis laughed before pressing his lips against Harry’s. “What do you say? Wanna stand up in front of all our friends and family and promise a lifetime to each other?”

“I do,” Harry whispered before finding Louis’ lips again and locking them with his own.

*           *         *

_2 Years Later..._

“You’re not supposed to be here!” Harry protested as he pulled his hotel room door open to find Louis standing in the hallway. It was past midnight and their wedding was only fourteen hours away. Harry had insisted on staying at a hotel, spewing nonsense about superstitions and traditions that Louis could honestly give two fucks about. All he wanted was to spend every waking second with his soon to be husband.

“Harold, baby, you know I love you, but I don’t believe in all this superstitious bullshit,” Louis chided as he stepped into the hotel room and pulled Harry flush against his chest. “Being with you the night before the wedding isn’t going to make a bit of difference. We’re still going to live happily ever after.”

Harry whined in protest but made no actual attempt to pull away. “You don’t know that, Lou. The chapel could go up in flames this very minute as some sort of karmic retribution for you breaking tradition and being here.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Listen to yourself, Harold. Nothing about us is traditional. We have broken every tradition imaginable and we’re still going strong. Tomorrow is going to be perfect.”

Harry pulled away just then, backing away from Louis until the back of his knees hit the bed. “You’re so sure about all this,” he said in a whisper as he sat down on the plush hotel bed. “How can you be so sure that everything is going to be alright? How are you so certain that we’re going to beat the odds and make it?”

Being with Harry for the past four years had taught Louis a couple of things: for starters, Harry made the best cinnamon buns known to mankind, secondly, Harry was very _very_ prone to anxiety ridden episodes where he doubted everything in the whole world. Lucky for Louis, he’d learned quickly how to calm him down.

“Harry,” Louis cooed as he made his way beside Harry, sitting down and taking Harry’s hands into his lap. “I’ve been here before, yeah? The night before my last wedding I was so scared, so worried that I was making a huge mistake. And it wasn’t just because I was in love with you. I had this gut feeling for _months_ before the wedding that Eleanor wasn’t the one for me,” he took a deep breath as Harry finally looked up to meet his eyes. “I don’t have that with you, sweetheart. I have zero worries or fears. My heart is so fucking sure that I’m making the right decision. My heart knows 100% that I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life calling you my husband. I know that I’m going to wake up tomorrow and every day after that beside my soulmate. Don’t you feel it too?”

Harry moved his hand to Louis’ face, swiping his fringe away from his forehead. “Of course, Lou, of course I feel it,” he whispered the words, but Louis knew with every fiber of his being that Harry was speaking the truth. “Just a bit scared is all, but good scared, you know?”

Louis’ mirrored Harry’s actions, his fingers playing the ends of a long curl that hung by his shoulder. “And what does _good scared_ feel like?”

“Like my heart is going to explode with happiness. Like I’m about to start the best chapter of my life tomorrow,” Harry took a deep breath as he moved his hand to cup Louis’ cheek, holding his face gently. “I’m terrified of starting forever with you, because then what? You know? How does it get better than this?”

Louis chuckled, as he moved so that he was kneeling in front of Harry and holding his face in between his hands. “Sweetheart, we haven’t even come close to hitting our peak. We have years and years of hot married love making ahead of us. And you think a wedding is as good as it gets? Wait until we have a baby. Wait until we’re watching our kid play footie. Wait until we’re sneaking in quickies in the shower while the kids watch tele. It only gets better from here, babe.”

They’d talked about all this before. They’d talked about their future until there was nothing left to discuss. They knew that children were a done deal. But talking about it all and actually working towards it were two very different things, and Louis felt a rush of adrenaline course through him as he realized that they were one step closer to his dream. Since the day he’d met Harry he’d dreamt of this – he’d dreamt of a fairytale wedding where he’d watch Harry walk up the aisle towards him with those sparkling green eyes of his. He’d dreamt of babies and endless cartoon watching and little fingers and toes. He’d never dreamt of any of those things with Eleanor. He’d never even thought about any of those things with Eleanor. But here he was, excited beyond belief that in a matter of fourteen hours he’d be one step closer to living out his fantasy.

“I can’t wait to be Harry Tomlinson,” Harry’s voice broke through the quiet.

Louis’ lips turned up into a smile. “Do you have any idea how hot that sounds? Every time I think of the name _Harry Tomlinson_ my dick gets hard.”

Harry giggled as he pulled Louis back up by his elbows, moving him forward until he was on the bed and straddling Harry’s hips. “Does that mean your dick is hard right now?”

“You tell me,” Louis said as he grinded his hips down into Harry’s, his thickening cock brushing against Harry’s hipbone.

Harry groaned, the sensation of Louis’ cock against his leg only working to send even more blood to his quickly hardening one. “I’m guessing you showed up here for this very reason,” Harry breathed the words as Louis grinded down on him again.

“Do you really think so low of me, baby?” Louis asked as he ducked his head down so that he could take Harry’s earlobe in between his teeth.

Harry didn’t even have a chance to respond. Louis was tugging on his earlobe with his teeth and sending a million jolts of electricity through his body. He wanted Louis, absolutely _needed_ Louis one more time before they were officially married. “Need you, Lou.”

“I’m all yours, baby.”

*             *          *

“You’re so handsome,” Anne sniffled as she tugged on Harry’s bowtie, straightening it until it was perfect.

“Don’t cry, mum. You’ve got to save your tears for the ceremony.”

Harry couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. In a matter of an hour he would be Harry Tomlinson, and he’d officially be the happiest and luckiest man in the world. He couldn’t stop thinking about the night before, when Louis had shown up at his hotel room in the middle of the night. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d talked him off the ledge, the way he’d painted a beautiful picture of their future together. And he definitely couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d made Harry see stars while riding him into the hotel mattress. Louis Tomlinson was perfect. He was perfect, and he was all his.

“I know I’ve my reservations about Louis in the past,” Harry rolled his eyes at his mom’s words, because wasn’t that the truth. She’d downright hated Louis at one point, and Harry couldn’t blame her because no mother would like the person who broke their son’s heart into a million little pieces. “But I’m so so happy that you two have found your way. You have the most genuine love for each other I’ve ever witnessed between two people, and it makes me so happy to see my baby loved so much.”

The door opened just then, Gemma rushing in with her bridesmaid dress blowing around her and a bouquet of lilies in her hands. “Are you almost ready?”

“We’re all set,” Anne said as she dabbed at the corners of her eyes, wiping away at the tears that were threatening to escape. “Is Louis already out there?”

Gemma nodded her head before sending a wink at Harry. “He’s looking very dapper.”  
“He always does,” Harry stated simply. He took a deep breath, trying to settle the bundle of nerves that were fluttering around in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t afraid to marry Louis, he knew that much. The nerves that were coursing through his veins had nothing to do with the fact that he was about to marry his very best friend and soulmate. He was just nervous because he was 99% sure he was going to trip while he was walking down the aisle, and he wasn’t sure if he could live through that sort of embarrassment.

“I’ll see you out there, kiddo,” Gemma said as she wrapped her arms around Harry. “You won’t trip, I promise,” she whispered in his ear for only him to hear, and he laughed as she pulled away and headed back towards the door. Gemma had always been able to read his thoughts, and while that annoyed him nine out of ten times, he was thankful for it in the moment.

Everything was a blur from the moment Gemma was out of the small room. The next thing Harry knew there was music playing in the small chapel and he was being led towards the door by his mum. He could see Gemma as she walked up the aisle towards the alter, and he was pretty certain he had forgotten how to breathe. He tried to take a deep breath, tried to remind himself who he was about to walk towards, tried to remind himself that Niall and Liam would be by his side throughout the entire thing. But Harry couldn’t calm the nerves that were rolling inside of him. He couldn’t stop the bile that was threatening to come up the back of his throat.

He was certain he was either about to vomit everywhere or pass out in the chapel (or maybe even both), but his mom’s arm was hooked in his own and she was leading him towards the aisle – towards his future, and he couldn’t do anything except let her pull him to where the aisle started. Just when Harry was sure he was about to faint from lack of oxygen and sheer nerves, he let himself look up and meet the eyes of the man who was waiting for him at the end of the aisle and everything became crystal clear. It was as if Louis’ blue orbs hit him with a sense of clarity – it was as if they had the power to bring him back down to earth – and Harry wasn’t scared anymore. He walked towards his everything, towards the only person who he had ever truly loved, and everything made so much sense. He wasn’t afraid of tripping or making a fool of himself anymore, he no longer cared if the whole world saw him make a fool of himself, all that mattered was that Louis was waiting for him so that they could begin their forever. All that mattered was that Louis was his, and he was Louis’.

*

The second Louis saw him he wanted to sink to his knees and sob. He wanted to cry every single happy tear that his body could produce. He wanted to thank whatever greater power was out there for bringing Harry Styles into his life.

He watched Harry walk towards him, his arm interlaced with Anne’s, with a giant smile spread across his face. He’d been here before, watching someone walk up an aisle towards him, but it had been so utterly different. He hadn’t felt like this with Eleanor. He hadn’t been filled with bliss and complete adoration. He hadn’t been 100% certain that the person walking towards him was who he was meant to spend the rest of his life with. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Harry. Their eyes were locked, and they were both smiling like two crazy people. Louis knew with every fiber of his being that Harry was his forever and watching him walk towards him in a little chapel in Harry’s home town was enough to make him the happiest man alive.

It felt like a century but also only a nanosecond until Harry was kissing his mom’s cheek and stepping up at the alter to stand across from Louis. Louis automatically reached for Harry’s hand, taking it in his own as they stared into each other’s eyes. Louis wasn’t even paying attention to what the minister was saying; he was far too lost in his Harry’s eyes and mere presence.

It was a whirlwind, and before Louis even really knew what was happening, the minister was giving him his cue to say his vows. Louis pulled the piece of paper out of his pocket (he was bound to fuck up at some point) and took a deep breath, squeezing Harry’s hand before beginning the words he’d put weeks upon weeks of thought into.

“Harry...Harold,” Louis let the nickname slip through his smiling lips. He’d been calling Harry _Harold_ since that very first night in the washroom of the night club, and he wasn’t about to stop. “We’ve already had quite the journey, haven’t we?” There was a rupture of chuckles and laughter from the pews, and Louis wasn’t sure if he should be offended or laugh along with them, he chose the latter. “The last five years have brought us tears, laughter, and enough love and happiness to fill an entire lifetime. I remember when I first met you and thought there was no way someone could be as charming and full of joy as you, but there you were – charming me and making me laugh from the very first second,” Louis paused to take a breath, his smile only growing wider as he watched Harry’s green eyes sparkle as he smiled back at him. Louis squeezed his hand tighter, rubbing his thumb across the back of Harry’s hand.

“You are the kindest, gentlest soul I’ve ever met, and the fact that we are about to spend a lifetime together makes me the happiest person in this world,” Louis continued, not even having to look down at the paper in his hands. The second he’d met Harry’s eyes he’d known everything he was meant to say. “You’re beautiful, _too_ beautiful if you ask me. You make everyone around you look like a measly peasant when they’re in your presence. And your jokes, dear lord those horrible dad jokes and knock-knocks that you think everyone finds funny. Well, guess what my sweet Harold? I think you’re funny as hell. I think you might be the funniest person I’ve ever met. You make me laugh every day, even on days I don’t feel like laughing, and I’m so beyond grateful for that.”

“He’s really not that funny,” Niall mumbled from where he stood behind Harry, causing the entire chapel to break out into laughter. No one in the world appreciated Harry’s cheesy jokes the way Louis did.

“Oh, buzz off, Niall. Anyways, I was saying before I got so rudely interrupted,” Louis quipped with a chuckle. “Falling for you was the easiest and best decision I ever made. Actually, scratch that because it wasn’t a decision. It happened without me even having a say in it, because who could not fall in love with you? I will forever be the luckiest man alive, and I know that our children will be the luckiest children. You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner and so much more then I could ever have imagined. I promise that our lifetime together will always be full of joy and love. I promise to let you buy every flavour of ice cream you want at the shops, because lord knows you can’t just have one. I promise to dance around the house to your pretentious ‘70s rock music. I promise to never make fun of your hideous printed button ups or the several hundred pairs of Chelsea boots you’ve collected over the years. I promise to have a hair elastic around my wrists at all times just in case you need one. I promise to hold you during the scary parts of movies and play with your hair every night until you fall asleep. I promise to record a million more records filled with cheesy and cringy love songs all written about you. And above all else, I promise to love you every second of every day for the rest of our lives. You are it for me Harold. You are my soulmate, my everything, my dream come true. And I will spend the rest of my life thanking you for choosing me to spend your life with.”

Harry was all but a blubbering mess, not even bothering to pull the handkerchief out of his tux pocket. Louis didn’t cry often, which was something he both appreciated and hated about himself, but as he stood in front of Harry and promised him the world, he couldn’t stop the tears from falling from his eyes. He could count on one hand how many times he’d cried happy tears, but he knew Harry would always make him cry from happiness.

“Lou,” Harry breathed his name when he finally had his tears under control. “Lou, I love you so much. I was so nervous to walk down this aisle and get up in front of all our family and friends, mostly because I was afraid I’d trip and make a fool of myself in front of everyone,” Louis couldn’t help but laugh at Harry’s confession. If anyone would trip and fall down a wedding aisle, it would be Harry. “But I made it, and now I’m standing here and I’m so in love with you.”  
“I love you,” Louis whispered back. He couldn’t help but interrupt Harry’s vows. He’d always take the opportunity to tell him he loved him.

Harry wiped away at the bottom of his eyes, preemptively stopping the tears. “We’ve had our ups and downs, just like anyone else, but meeting you, falling in love with you, has been the very best thing I’ve ever done in my life. I will always be grateful that Liam and Niall dragged me out to that club that night. I’ll always be thankful that our paths crossed, and we got to start this incredible journey. In the last five years you have become the single most important person in my life. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the very last thing I think about when I fall asleep at night. I’ve even become your biggest fan, which is pretty incredible since I definitely didn’t like your music before I fell in love with you,” Louis laughed along with Harry to his own joke. “Every time you go away for work or on tour I can’t help but be a mess, but I always know without a shadow of a doubt that you’ll be coming home to me.”

Harry took a deep breath, his hand shaking as he held onto Louis. “You act so tough for everyone else, but I love the way that you’re really you with me. I love that you hold doors open for old ladies and take every chance you get to help the people around you. There was a time when I thought I’d never know what real love is, but you showed up when I least expected it – where I least expected it. You showed up and swept me off my feet in this big romance story. You’ve known that I’m a hopeless romantic from the moment you met me, and that day that you came out on the radio – that day that I was at work and heard you profess your love for me to Nick Grimshaw and almost all of London – that was the day that I knew with 100% certainty that I couldn’t possibly ever live my life without you. That was the day that I knew we’d be standing here one day, exchanging vows and promising forever to each other.”

“I have a long list of promises I want to make to you, and I’m apologizing right now to all of our loved ones for having to sit through this,” Everyone laughed again, and Louis was certain he’d fallen more in love with Harry in that moment. His ability to make people laugh was one of his favourite qualities about him. “I promise to always be your biggest fan, even when your songs are cliché and cheesy and a little too poppy for me. I promise to always wear the skinny jeans you love, even when I’m old and a little too fat for them. I promise to keep my Chelsea boot obsession to one pair a year and I promise I’ll finally retire that Rolling Stones shirt with a million little holes in it, because I know you hate when I wear it in public. I promise to let you choose our Friday night movies at least once a month, even if it’s a scary one. I promise to continue to do your laundry for the rest of our lives, because I refuse to let you turn all of my clothes pink again when you try to use the washing machine again. I promise to put up with all of your annoying habits, like the way you leave the dishes in the sink instead of putting them in the dishwasher. I promise you all of these things because I love you regardless of these little quirks. I promise to keep your favourite bottle of tequila in stock at all times. You are my best friend, my soulmate, my forever. I promise to sing along to your songs when they come on the radio, even if we’re in the shops and you tell me to shut up because I’m an embarrassing knob. And I even promise to let you be the little spoon at least three times a week. I promise to fight for us for the rest of our lives and to be the biggest supporter of this beautiful relationship we’ve built. I promise to be your biggest supporter, the president of your fan club, and your constant companion. I promise you a lifetime, but when it comes to you, a lifetime doesn’t seem like nearly long enough.”

*

“Can’t we skip the reception?” Harry whined as they sat in the back of the limo, their arms wrapped around each other, both of them nuzzled into the others’ neck.

Louis tsked before he left a wet kiss to the part of Harry’s neck that he’d freed from the collar of his dress shirt. “You know, there was so much more I wanted to say to you that I couldn’t say in front of our mums.”

“Mmm, is that so?” Harry asked as he let his head fall back, exposing more of his neck for Louis to ravage with his mouth.

Yes,” Louis confirmed before as he loosened Harry’s bowtie even more so he could unbutton the collar of his shirt. “I promise to always let you blow me in the back of limos.”  
Harry laughed as he pulled Louis’ suit jacket from his shoulders. “You don’t promise to return the favour every now and then?”

“Pretty sure that’s what I’m about to do, baby,” Louis whispered into his ear before sucking on the sensitive skin right behind it. “You want to know the exact moment I fell in love with you?”

Harry was putty in Louis’ hands, so pliable and willing as Louis moved to unbutton Harry’s pants and shimmy them down his thighs. “When you realized you’d never have to cook again if you kept me around?”

Louis shook his head as he moved to kneel in between Harry’s legs, his fingers hooking into Harry’s boxer briefs so that he could have Harry practically naked in front of him. “Nope,” he said, popping the “p”. “It was that day in your room back in the flat you shared with Niall and Liam. When you asked me to ride you and I had you for the first time. It was when you let me open you up with my fingers and I watched you come undone underneath me. I was so fucking done for you then.”

Harry was panting and Louis hadn’t even properly touched him yet. Louis’ memory was from five years ago, but it felt like just yesterday. Harry could recall the way Louis had looked as he straddled his thighs. He could remember the way Louis had had his existential crisis afterwards when he realized that having sex with Harry (a man) had felt more substantial – downright more _right_ – then having sex with any woman.

“What else did you want to say in your vows?” Harry asked as he looked down at Louis who was kneeling before him. He’d never get tired of this sight. He’d never want it to be anyone else.

“That I realized I never wanted anyone else the first time I heard you moan my name when I do this,” Louis breathed the words before popping Harry’s cock into his mouth and immediately taking it to the back of his throat.

“Ugh, Lou,” Harry moaned, just as expected, his eyes rolling back as he lost himself in the feel of Louis’ mouth.

“Or the way you arch your back every time I let my fingers do this,” Louis continued, his fingers padding the sensitive skin of his perineum, causing Harry to arch his back as promised. Louis removed his fingers only to touch them to Harry’s lips, and Harry knew exactly what Louis wanted. Harry sucked on Louis’ middle and index fingers until they were soaking wet with saliva. Louis pulled them out of Harry’s mouth slowly, watching with hooded eyes as Harry’s pink lips popped off from around them. Louis wasted no time, moving his fingers back to Harry’s entrance and slowly pushing into his tight hole. “I knew I never wanted to do this with anyone else when I saw the way your mouth falls open when I hit the exact right spot,” Louis curved his fingers forward until he’d found the spot he’d been talking about, and Harry’s mouth immediately fell open and a string of curses left his lips.

He continued to work Harry with his fingers and his mouth as the limo drove towards the fancy dinner they were about to have with one hundred of their closest friends and family. And Louis didn’t even care that he was going to be an absolute wreck when the limo pulled up outside of the hall. He didn’t even care that their tuxes were going to be wrinkled and their boutonnieres were probably squashed. He needed Harry more then he needed anything else in his life. He needed to taste him, to show him that marrying him had done this to him. Marrying Harry had been the biggest turn on in the entire universe.

“Lou,” Harry moaned his name again, and Louis was gone. He was palming himself over his dress pant and he needed a release. Harry’s hands were pulling him up just then, pulling at him until he could undo Louis’ pants and have him straddling him naked. Louis looked down in between them just as Harry’s obscenely large hand wrapped around both of their cocks. They hadn’t done this in ages, they hadn’t needed to be this rushed in ages, but here they were, about to have their first dance and getting off like a couple of teenagers in the back of a limo. _Old habits die hard._

Louis’ eyes were transfixed on the magic that Harry’s hand was currently conjuring between them. Harry’s wedding band kept sliding against the soft skin of his cock and Louis was pretty sure that it was the hottest thing he’d ever witnessed.

“Fuck Lou,” Harry breathed, his mouth against Louis’. “I knew I was a goner the first time I realized I knew exactly how you held your jaw when you’re about to come,” he stated through a string of moans just as Louis came all over Harry’s own cock and fist. Louis pushed Harry’s hand away just then, wrapping his own hand around Harry’s cock and pumping him fast as he connected his mouth to Harry’s. Their tongues wrapped around each other and all it took was a couple more tugs until Harry was coming undone in Louis’ hand.

“Number one million why I love you,” Louis started as he climbed off of Harry’s lap and fell back against the leather of the limo, out of breath and completely wrecked. “You have magic hands.”

Harry laughed as he rested he tried to even his breathing. “Could say the exact same thing about you, husband.”

*        *        *

_Four Years Later..._

Harry was watching the scene unfold from behind the lens of a camera. He lived for these moments – moments that were perfectly captured to cherish for the rest of their lives. He’d lived behind this very camera for the last year, documenting every major event: from the moment they’d brought her home, to the first time she crawled, to her first word, first steps, up until now – her first birthday. Every moment with their daughter had brought so much more joy into Harry and Louis’ lives then they’d ever possibly imagined.

“This barely looks like Elmo, Harry,” Louis whined from behind the kitchen island, where he was strategically placing a birthday candle into the cake Harry had just finished icing minutes before.

Harry put the camera down and made his way to Louis, snaking his arms around his waist and pressing his chest flush against Louis’ back. “I think it’s quite lovely.”  
“’Course you do. You’re the one who made this red blob,” Louis’ voice was filled with panic, but Harry could still pick up on the humour and fondness that was buried underneath.

“She’s never going to know the difference, Lou,” Harry reassured him, placing a kiss to Louis’ shoulder.

Louis stopped fiddling with the candle and turned around, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. “I can’t believe she’s already a year old. It feels like just yesterday we were bringing her home. And we’ve somehow managed to keep her alive this entire time.”  
Harry smacked him lightly on the back of the head but couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped at Louis’ sad attempt at a joke. “We’ve done a pretty fantastic job, I think.”  
“You’re an amazing father, Harold. Elsie and I are so fucking lucky to have you.”  
Harry pressed his lips against Louis’, their lips locking together like two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly. It had been nine years, nine imperfectly perfect years, and Harry still got dizzy when his lips connected with Louis’. Louis was still his very best friend, his soulmate, and the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It had been nine years and Harry still got weak in the knees when Louis walked into the room. He’d never get tired of this life, not when he had Louis Tomlinson as his husband and the father of his children.

“I think we should have another one.”

Louis’ eyes widened as the words left Harry’s mouth. “I...what? I’m sorry, we should have another what exactly?”

“A baby,” Harry explained with a wide smile, his eyes sparkling the way they always did when he was this happy. “We always said we wanted Elsie to have a baby sister or brother. We should start the adoption process now while she’s still so young and you’re on break from touring.”

Louis was shaking his head but couldn’t wipe the shit eating grin off his face. “I’d adopt a million babies with you, Harry Styles. I’d do absolutely anything for you.”

“Is that a yes?”

Louis was pulling Harry against him in a heartbeat, their mouths colliding before Louis finally pulled away to respond. “Yes, Harold. I’ll have your baby.”

 

**The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank each and every one of you for being such amazing, interactive, and dedicated readers. Writing this story has been a journey, and I could never have done it without you. I truly loved writing Harry and Louis' love story, and I hope you enjoyed it as well!! 
> 
> This won't be the last you hear from me. I already have a new story in the works and I'm hoping to have the first chapter up in the next couple of weeks, so make sure you check back or subscribe to my page so you get the notification!! 
> 
> Thanks again!!! <3 <3 <3


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